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SOME  SILENT  TEACHERS 


CO-PRINCIPAL  OF  THE   CHICAGO   KINDERGARTEN   COLLEGE. 


"All  the  material  world  is  a  manifestation  of  the  unseen." 


SECOND   EDITION 


PUBLISHED   BY 

THE  NATIONAL  KINDERGARTEN  COLLEGE, 
Chicago. 


COPYRIGHT,  1904. 

BY  ELIZABETH  HARRISON, 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


BECKTOLD 

PRINTING  &  BOOK  MFG.  CO. 
ST.  LOUIS,  MO. 


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PREFACE. 

So  kind  and  sympathetic  a  reception  has 
been  given  my  "  Study  of  Child-Nature," 
wherein  I  treat  of  the  value  of  understand- 
ing and  wisely  training  the  INHERITED 
INSTINCTS  of  children,  that  I  have  ven- 
tured in  this  book  to  put  forth  some  sugges- 
tions concerning  the  use  of  ENVIRONMENT 
in  education.  I  hope  to  treat  of  SELF- 
ACTIVITY  and  its  importance  in  a  third  vol- 
ume, thus  completing  the  trilogy,  the  out- 
line of  which  is  given  in  the  introduction  to 
this.  Thanking  a  generous  public  for  its 
past  interest,  I  make  no  other  apology  for 
putting  before  it  another  book. 


Other  Books  by  the  Same  Author 
A  STUDY  OF  CHILD-NATURE. 
THE  VISION  OP  DANTE. 
CHRISTMASTIDE. 
IN  STORY-LAND. 

TWO  CHILDREN  OF  THE  FOOTHILLS. 
THE  KINDERGARTEN  BUILDING  GIFTS. 
LEAVES  FROM  MY  NOTE-BOOK. 

(IN  PREPARATION.) 


CONTENTS. 


1.  INTRODUCTION. 

2.  OUR  SHOP  WINDOWS. 

3.  DUMB  STONE  AND  MARBLE;. 

4.  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  COLOR. 

5.  GREAT  LITERATURE. 


INTRODUCTION. 


When  we  look  at  education  in  a  broad,  phil- 
osophical way,  we  find  that  the  three  greatest 
themes  in  this  field  of  thought  are,  first, 
heredity ;  second,  environment ;  and,  third,  self- 
activity. 

All  these  are  in  every  phase  of  true  edu- 
cation, yet  each  may  be  emphasized  to 
excess,  thus  warping  educational  efforts, 
and  making  of  its  advocate  a  faddist. 

Heredity  tells  the  thoughtful  student,  of 
the  long  path  over  which  the  ancestors  of 
any  individual  have  traveled,  and  in  conse- 
quence, the  already  formed  tendencies  of  that 
individual — his  physical,  mental  and  moral 
weaknesses  and  strength. 

"Hereditary  rank,"  says  Washington 
Irving,  "may  be  a  snare  and  a  delusion,  but 
inherited  morality  far  outshines  the  blazonry 
of  heraldry." 

Nay,  we  may  and  do  go  much  farther  in 
our  realization  of  what  heredity  does  toward 
starting  the  child  handicapped  or  free  in  the 
race  of  life. 


10  Introduction. 

I  know  personally  of  a  family  where  the 
great-grand-father  was  a  dissolute,  self-indul- 
gent man.  His  daughter  came  into  the 
world  with  poisoned  blood  and  suffered  most 
of  her  life  from  torturing  pain.  Her  daugh- 
ter grew  to  womanhood  a  frail,  delicate 
maiden,  notwithstanding  the  mother's  utmost 
effort  to  build  up  her  constitution.  She  had 
occasional  breakdowns  and  troublesome  boils 
here  and  there  on  her  body.  Her  little 
three-year-old  child  not  long  since  had  to  be 
taken  to  the  hospital  to  have  an  ulcerous 
sore  cut  out  of  his  leg.  Do  we  not  hear, 
anew,  the  thundering  voice  from  Sinai  pro- 
claiming that  "The  sins  of  the  fathers  are 
visited  upon  the  children  unto  the  third  and 
fourth  generation"  ?  But  let  us  always  remem- 
ber the  rest  of  that  announcement :  "He  show- 
eth  mercy  unto  thousands  of  generations."  This 
is  the  bright  side  of  heredity,  which  is  too  often 
forgotten.  A  simple  and  well-known  illustra- 
tion of  the  value  of  the  right  understanding  of 
heredity  is  the  difference  in  treatment  that  is 
required  in  dealing  with  the  undeveloped  negro 
race  and  that  necessary  in  the  governing  of  the 
decadent  races  of  East  India,  or  even  in  the 
controlling  of  the  American  Indian. 


Introduction.  11 

When  we  come  to  the  study  of  environ- 
ment we  find  another  great  world  for  scien- 
tific investigation,  and  for  earnest,  thoughtful 
consideration  o>f  the  educator.  Washington 
Gladden  has  published  statistics  showing 
that  an  overwhelming  majority  of  the  one 
hundred  most  successful  men  in  all  the 
higher  callings  in  twenty-five  of  the  largest 
cities  in  the  United  States  passed  their  boy- 
hood in  the  country  surroundings.  One  of  the 
great  New  York  penal  institutions  has  kept 
a  record  of  the  childhood,  (as  far  as  was 
ascertainable),  of  the  convicts  brought  within 
its  walls,  and  ninety  per  cent,  I  think  it  is,  of 
these  records  show  that  ignorance,  filth 
and  crime  environed  these  convicts  during 
the  impressionable  years  of  childhood.  Those 
of  you  who  have  seen  the  terrible  stereop- 
ticon  pictures  with  which  Jacob  Riis  illus- 
trates his  lectures  on  "The  Tenement-House 
Problems"  will  not  be  surprised  at  this 
record  of  the  influences  of  environment  on 
body,  mind  and  heart.  They  speak  with 
trumpet  tones  of  the  needs  of  our  great  cities. 

The  educational  world  is  beginning  to  awak- 
en to  this  subject,  as  is  attested  by  the 
soft-tinted  walls  now  seen  in  all  of  our  best 


12  Introduction. 

schools,  the  use  of  reproductions  of  the 
great  works  of  art,  as  school-room  pictures, 
and  the  frequent  excursions  to  the  fields 
and  woods. 

But  over  and  above  the  too  exclusive  study 
of  heredity,  which  leads  to  fatalism,  down 
below  the  exclusive  study  of  environment, 
which  leads  to  despondency,  shines  the  light 
of  the  thought  that  self-activity  is  greater 
than  any  barriers  placed  by  ancestry  or  by 
surroundings.  "Man  is  a  limit-transcending 
being"  is  the  watchword  of  the  new  education. 

Let  us  accept  the  scientific  data  brought 
us  by  the  painstaking  students  of  the  evo- 
lutionary theory  of  the  past,  that  we  may 
know  the  tendencies  and  dormant  "remanents" 
which  still  exist  in  the  child,  in  order  that 
evil  may  be  avoided.  Let  us  listen  to  the 
earnest  students  of  sociology  concerning  the 
powerful  influence  of  environment  on  early 
childhood,  in  order  that  we  may  remove  the 
wrong  and  strive  to  give  the  right  environ- 
ment. 

But  let  us  not  for  one  moment  forget  that 
man  has  within  him  a  spiritual  possibility, 
which  can  rise  above  the  tendencies  of  ages, 
and  by  moral  will  power  say  to  the  Satan 


Introduction.  13 

within  and  the  devils  without,  "Get  ye 
behind  me!"  The  ideal  is  the  angel  with 
the  flaming  sword  which  guards  the  Valley  of 
the  princes. 

Let  us  not  for  one  moment  forget  that  man 
has  the  power  within  him  which  can  build 
up  an  inner  oasis  in  an  outer  desert — that  he 
has  within  him  the  love  which  can  transform 
a  garret  into  a  palace,  a  frugal  meal  into  a 
feast.  When  he  cannot  realize  his  ideals  he 
can  idealize  his  reals.  Love,  unselfishness, 
sympathy  and  courage  can  change  environ- 
ment, or  at  least  render  its  influence  harm- 
less. Dickens'  story  of  TINY  TIM  and  his 
Christmas  festival  is  no  fancy  sketch;  there 
are  lives  all  around  us  which  are  demon- 
strating the  same  great  truth — that  poverty 
is  a  state  of  mind,  not  a  condition  of  the 
purse. 

Let  us  then  study  all  that  heredity  has  to 
tell  us,  all  that  environment  can  teach  us; 
but  let  us  strive  also  to  learn  how  best  we 
may  educate  the  will  to  overcome  the  weak- 
nesses and  limitations  of  inheritance  and  how 
to  strengthen  the  affections  until  they  transfig- 
ure the  environment  of  the  soul. 


I. 

OUR  SHOP  WINDOWS. 


"Having  eyes  to  see,  ye  see  not;  having 
ears  to  hear,  ye  hear  not."  There  is  per- 
haps no  saying  of  the  Master  which  shows 
deeper  insight  into  human  needs  than  these 
words.  There  is  an  outer  and  an  inner  eye, 
an  outer  and  an  inner  ear,  an  outer  and  an 
inner  life,  and  it  is  the  lack  of  consciousness 
of  this  inner  life  which  shows  itself  upon  the 
vacant,  tired  and  miserable  faces  which  we  so 
often  meet;  faces  which  tell  of  hungry  hearts 
and  souls,  more  pitiful  than  any  deformity  of 
body,  or  disease  of  organs;  for  we  are  rich  or 
poor  according  as  our  inner  world  is  full,  or 
empty.  Many  a  human  being  passes  through 
life  without  knowing  what  is  the  matter  with 
him,  blind  to  the  great  opportunities,  deaf 
to  the  deep  relationships,  unconscious  of  the 
wonderful  revelations  which  are  unfolding 
about  him  every  day. 

15 


16  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

I  remember  one  summer  spending  two 
weeks  in  Dresden  for  the  sake  of  studying 
the  Dresden  gallery.  Day  after  day  I  stood 
before  the  Sistine  Madonna  and  drank  in  her 
beauty,  her  courage,  her  love,  her  fearless 
trust;  day  after  day  I  turned  from  that  to  the 
marvelous  "Holy  Night"  of  Correggio,  and 
stood  in  hushed  reverence  before  its  mystery; 
day  after  day  I  grew  in  sympathy  with  the 
weak  and  helpless  as  I  looked  into  the  face 
of  the  Holbein  Madonna.  The  hours  were 
too  short,  the  days  too  limited  for  the  rich- 
ness and  inspiration  which  came  pouring 
upon  me.  While  hurrying  through  one  of 
the  outer  rooms  one  morning,  I  chanced  to 
meet  an  acquaintance,  a  man  who  had  ac- 
cumulated a  fortune  at  home.  A  look  of 
relief  came  upon  his  face  when  he  recognized 
me,  and  after  the  usual  greetings,  exchange 
of  hotel  addresses,  et  cetra,  he  said,  "Isn't 
it  a  bore  to  have  to  go  through  these  picture 
galleries;  don't  you  get  awfully  tired  of 
them?"  Then  added,  "I  suppose  we  all 
have  to  do  it,  but  it  is  stupid  work.  The 
finest  thing  I  have  seen  in  Dresden  is  the 
former  king's  carriage;  it  is  gold  leather, 
lined  with  brocaded  satin,  and  the  harness  is 


Our  Shop  Windows.  17 

inlaid  with  jeweled  glass.  It's  fine!  you 
ought  to  see  it!"  He  little  knew  that  he 
was  telling  me  of  the  pitiful  fact  that  he  had 
allowed  the  call  of  the  outer  world  to  so  en- 
gross him  that  he  could  not  hear  the  inner 
voice  of  things.  He  had  looked  so  long  upon 
the  outside  of  life  that  the  eyes  of  his  inner 
self  were  blinded  like  those  of  the  fish  in  the 
Mammoth  Cave,  having  lost  their  power  to 
see  by  not  being  exercised  for  seeing.  What 
did  his  bank  account  amount  to  with  the 
starved  and  hungry  soul  within  him  restless 
and  craving  more  life? 

Another  memory  comes  to  me  of  two  weeks 
which  I  spent  one  summer  at  a  Wisconsin 
lake  with  a  family  of  seven  other  persons,  a 
mother  and  her  three  children  and  three 
young  lady  boarders.  The  entire  sum  for 
their  week's  expense  was  $20.  Eight  people 
living  upon  $20  a  week!  Yet  I  have  rarely 
ever  in  my  life  spent  two  richer,  more  enjoy- 
able or  more  profitable  weeks.  We  were  up 
in  the  morning  with  the  early  dawn,  taking 
our  rolls  and  hurried  cup  of  coffee,  and  then 
a  long  tramp  through  the  woods,  around  the 
lakeshore,  or  perchance  a  row  across  the  lake 
to  catch  the  miracle  of  the  sunrise,  coming 


18  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

home  with  a  boatful  of  pond-lillies,  or  some 
other  gift  of  nature  with  which  to  decorate 
and  make  beautiful  the  tumble-down  old 
house  that  gave  us  shelter.  Later  on  during 
the  day  there  was  reading  from  some  inspir- 
ing book  under  the  shade  of  a  huge  oak  tree; 
then  came  the  frolic  of  dinner-getting,  after- 
noon sketching  in  the  open  air,  and  of  prac- 
tice of  our  music  for  the  evening  concert 
(one  of  the  young  ladies  played  upon  the 
violin  and  another  upon  the  piano.  Although 
they  had  left  many  comforts  behind,  they  had 
both  instruments  with  them).  After  a  quiet, 
simple  supper,  oftentimes  of  bread  and  milk, 
or  porridge,  plenty  of  it,  but  easily  prepared, 
there  came  an  hour  upon  the  starlit  porch 
with  games,  conundrums  and  funny  stories, 
or  the  recapitulation  of  the  day's  experiences. 
Sometimes  when  the  evenings  were  spent  in- 
doors, tableaux  or  charades  were  worked  up 
for  our  own  amusement;  our  last  hour  to- 
gether was  given  to  music,  and  always  ended 
with  the  gentle  evening  hymn,  "Abide  with 
me,  O  Lord,  fast  fall  the  evening  shades." 
There  was  no  effort,  no  set  plan,  no  straining 
and  striving  for  effect,  but  simply  the  gen- 
erous, joyous  pouring  forth  of  lives  that  were 
rich  within. 


Our  Shop  Windows.  19 

Let  me  again  illustrate  my  points  by  giving 
the  experience  of  a  school-teacher  friend  of 
mine.  She  had  occasion  to  purchase  a  ready- 
made  pedestrian  skirt,  and  the  selection  had 
to  be  made  after  school  hours;  as  she  was 
going  into  the  store  she  almost  ran  into  a 
customer  who  was  leaving,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  she  was  so  intent  upon  the  planning  of 
the  next  day's  lesson,  having  succeeded  in  lift- 
ing her  class  to  a  point  beyond  what  she  had 
anticipated;  the  joy  of  her  conquest  was  still 
upon  her  when  she  turned  to  the  saleswoman 
and  explained  that  as  she  had  a  long  street  car 
ride  each  day  in  all  kinds  of  weather  she 
wanted  a  very  durable  skirt.  "Are  you  a 
teacher?"  asked  the  saleswoman.  She  replied, 
"Yes."  Then  in  a  tone  of  deepest  commisera- 
tion the  woman  said,  "How  I  pity  you !  What 
a  hard,  thankless  lot  a  teacher's  is!"  Having 
eyes  to  see,  she  saw  not  the  glory,  the  oppor- 
tunity, the  satisfaction,  and  inspiration  which 
comes  to  the  true  teacher. 

Will  I  weary  you  if  I  give  you  one  more  il- 
lustration of  the  need  of  seeing  into  things 
in  order  that  we  may  hear  their  true  voices  and 
know  them  to  be  our  silent  teachers,  often  more 
potent  than  school  or  college  or  university  pro- 


20  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

fessor.  At  the  time  of  the  World's  Fair,  when 
Chicago  was  lifted  to  its  highest  by  that  mar- 
velous revelation  of  what  commerce,  education, 
art  and  civilization  really  mean,  I  met  a  chance 
acquaintance  to  whom  I  put  the  accustomed 
question,  "How  are  you  enjoying  the  Fair?" 
"Oh,"  she  replied,  "I  have  only  been  there 
twice."  When  I  uttered  an  exclamation  of  as- 
tonishment, she  added  by  way  of  explanation, 
"Oh,  it  is  all  right  for  people  who  do  not 
live  in  the  city,  but  for  us  who  can  go  at  any 
time  to  Marshall  Field's  it  does  not  really 
matter  much.  We  can  get  about  the  same 
things  there."  Get,  get,  get!  that  was  her 
trouble;  all  wealth  meant  to  her  merely  more 
getting;  she  had  not  yet  learned  the  great 
lesson  of  joyful  participation  in  the  beauty  of 
nature  or  of  art,  without  any  thought  or  hope 
of  personal  getting.  Having  eyes  to  see,  she 
saw  only  the  outer,  objective  side  of  things,  not 
their  deep,  inner  meaning. 

So  our  shop  windows  may  be  to  us  merely 
places  where  merchants  exhibit  their  merchan- 
dise, which  they  hope  we  will  purchase,  or  they 
may  be  great  illumined  volumes  filled  with 
illustrations  of  the  processes  of  the  industrial 
world  and  the  world  of  art,  in  fact,  the  whole 


Our  Shop  Windows.  21 

history  of  civilization.  In  them  are  to  be  found 
chapters  on  anthropology,  evolution,  sociology, 
morals,  ethics  and  poetry,  illustrated  true  to 
life. 

Let  us  take  a  stroll  down  one  of  our  busy 
thoroughfares  and  see  if  we  can  let  these  silent 
teachers  tell  us  of  the  meaning  of  modern  civi- 
lization. Man's  conquests  over  matter,  time 
and  space  are  all  written  here.  Look  at  these 
inventions  which  these  windows  display! 
There  are  the  steps  of  transition  made  by  puny 
man  from  his  condition  as  helpless  savage  flee- 
ing from  the  wild  beasts,  battered  by  the  storm, 
swept  away  by  the  floods,  or  starved  by  the 
drought,  on  up  to  man  as  the  mighty  master  of 
Nature,  subjugating  the  animals  to  his  use  by 
these  weapons,  traps  and  fowling-pieces,  sub- 
duing and  domesticating  them  as  proclaimed  by 
these  harnesses  and  domiciles  for  animal  life, 
transfiguring  and  using  them  as  symbols  as 
hinted  to  us  by  these  statues  and  pictures. 

In  hammer  and  tongs,  chisel  and  plane,  we 
read  the  record  of  his  conquest  over  the  forests, 
of  his  building  for  himself  habitations  which 
defy  the  heat  and  the  cold,  the  wind  and  the 
rain.  Yonder  window  filled  with  stoves  tells 
us  of  his  mighty  conquest  over  that  all-devour- 
ing, all-destroying  element  of  fire. 


22  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

One  of  these  days  I  am  going  to  write  a 
fairy  tale  of  man's  conquest  over  the  genii  of 
the  earth :  first  of  all  he  is  to  meet  and  fight 
a  huge  giant  clothed  in  flaming  reds  and  or- 
anges and  yellows  that  float  and  curve  and 
twist  about  his  form  as  does  a  silken  scarf 
upon  a  windy  day.  He  is  to  wear  a  smoke- 
colored  cloud  encircling  his  head  like  a  tur- 
ban, and  he  is  to  possess  power  to  dart  forth  a 
tongue  from  any  part  of  his  body,  a  stinging, 
burning,  malicious  tongue  which  can  wipe  out 
of  existence  man's  home  almost  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  or  can  lick  up,  within  a  few 
hours,  huge  forests  that  have  been  a  hundred 
years  in  their  growth.  This  gorgeously  ar- 
rayed giant,  could  he  seize  man  himself,  would 
hold  him  to  his  breast  for  a  brief  moment  and 
then  drop  him  to  the  earth  a  charred  cinder. 
Then  I  will  tell  of  all  the  courage  and  intelli- 
gence that  it  took  for  puny  man  to  conquer 
this  mighty  fiend ;  then  shall  come  the  subjuga- 
tion of  the  fiery  giant,  and  of  his  being  chained 
to  the  spots  where  man  wishes  to  keep  him; 
how  he  was  put  into  man's  house  to  cook  his 
food  and  to  warm  his  family ;  and  put  into  his 
field  to  burn  up  the  stubbles  for  him ;  how  puny 
man  forced  this  giant,  clothed  in  fiery  tongues, 


Our  Shop  Windows.  23 

to  take  hold  of  other  huge  giants  and  master 
them  for  him.  Then  shall  come  the  struggle  be- 
tween the  fire-giant  and  a  great  clumsy  crea- 
ture clothed  in  dull  blacks  and  grays,  who 
crushed  everybody  who  came  near  him,  who 
stood  definant  and  indomitable  until  encircled 
by  the  arms  of  the  fire-giant ;  then  how  he  melts 
into  flowing  liquid  and  assumes  any  shape  that 
the  hand  of  man  may  dictate,  and  the  iron- 
giant  becomes  puny  man's  friendly  servant. 
Even  the  dirty  earth-giant,  who  runs  away 
every  time  the  flood  comes,  or  who  hurls  hands 
full  of  dust  up  into  the  air  in  fretful  protest 
whenever  the  wind  speaks  to  him,  stinging  the 
eyes  of  men  and  filling  their  mouths  with  his 
own  substance — even  so  unstable  a  giant  as  this 
shall  be  conquered  by  the  fire-fiend  and  made  to 
bring  forth  the  terra-cotta  by  means  of  which 
man  can  make  for  himself  buildings  which  shall 
rise  majestically  ten,  fifteen,  twenty  stories  up 
into  God's  sunshine  and  air!  Then  the  story 
will  go  on  to  tell  how  the  great  iron-giant  fash- 
ioned for  man  plow-shares  and  pruning-hooks, 
and  the  sullen  earth-giant  was  compelled  to 
produce  food  when  and  where  man  chose,  and 
in  abundance  for  his  needs,  and  so  on  and  so 
on.  All  these  giants  in  their  conquered  and 


24  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

domesticated  forms  are  shown  in  our  shop  win- 
dows if  we  vyill  but  see  through  the  tools  and 
instruments  displayed  to  the  process  that  made 
them ;  back  of  the  process,  to  the  mind  that  con- 
ceived the  process.  Then  these  shop  windows 
will  bring  their  silent  but  most  significant  mes- 
sage to  us  of  how  the  spirit  of  man  has  trans- 
cended the  mightiest  forces  of  the  natural 
world! 

Do  not  the  furs  and  blankets  speak  of  his 
conquest  over  cold?  The  umbrellas  and  elec- 
tric fans  of  his  conquest  over  heat  ?  The  mos- 
quito-nets and  wire  screens  of  his  conquest  over 
the  pests  of  the  insect  world?  The  plumber's 
tools  tell  us  of  his  victory  over  the  poison  of 
sewage,  and  the  bringing  of  pure  water  from  a 
distance.  Candlesticks,  lamps  and  electric  light 
globes  tell  us  of  his  destruction  of  darkness. 
Here,  too,  we  find  drugs  for  ailments,  ointments 
for  bruises,  bandages  for  dislocated  or  broken 
limbs ;  even  ear  trumpets,  spectacles  and  crutch- 
es are  here  to  tell  us  of  the  reinforcing  of  the 
declining  bodily  powers  of  man  by  the  ingenu- 
ity of  his  mind. 

Of  what  do  the  grocery  stores  tell  us?  Is 
it  not  how  man  has  said  to  nature,  "I  will 
not  be  dependent  upon  you  and  be  deprived 


Our  Shop  Windows.  25 

of  my  food  at  the  end  of  a  dry  summer ;  I  will 
be  master  of  your  seasons?"  So  he  has  con- 
quered and  confined  the  daintiest  products  in 
prisons  of  glass  and  tin  and  ice,  and  now  he 
enjoys  all  the  year  round  the  vegetables  of  the 
spring,  the  fruits  of  the  summer,  the  nuts  and 
grains  of  the  autumn. 

The  beautiful  art-lock  of  iron  which  we  see 
to-day  is  simply  an  evolution  from  the  stick 
and  leathern  strap  of  the  olden  time;  the  idea 
has  been  elaborated,  that  is  all.  These  are 
but  a  few  of  the  conquests  of  mind  over  mat- 
ter as  pictured  by  our  shop  windows.  Some 
go  so  far  as  to  furnish  us  with  the  steps  of  the 
process  all  in  one  window,  i.  e.,  the  wood 
out  of  which  pianos  are  made,  the  wires,  felt, 
the  skeleton  of  the  work  and  the  full  melodious 
instrument. 

One  of  the  interesting  things  in  this  study 
of  man's  evolution  as  given  to  us  by  our  shop 
windows  is,  that  the  eternal  verities  of  the  past 
remain.  The  follies  which  are  there  dis- 
played are  those  of  to-day.  Those  which  em- 
bodied the  caprice  or  wrath  of  man  in  the 
past,  such  as  powdered  wigs,  curved,  semi- 
circular toes  to  shoes,  poisoned  arrows,  instru- 
ments of  inquisition,  et  cetera,  have  all  died 


26  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

their  natural  death.  They  may  be  found  in 
museums  or  curio  collections,  but  they  are  not 
to  be  seen  in  our  shop  windows  of  to-day, 
whereas  every  desire  to  give  to  the  world  a 
valuabe  invention  or  contrivance,  every  noble 
expression,  by  the  means  of  marble  or  pigment, 
every  true  thought,  has  been  handed  down, 
either  preserved  as  given  or  enlarged  and  am- 
plified. Time  winnows  the  chaff  from  the  shop 
windows.  Tliere  was  once  an  era  when  the 
earthly  life  of  man  was  short,  all  of  his  influ- 
ence ended  with  him;  but  now  he  says,  "That 
will  not  do;  I  am  immortal,  and  I  want  all  that 
is  o'f  value,  all  that  is  immortal  in  the  past." 
What  has  he  done?  The  nearest  bookstore 
will  show  you  how  man  has  preserved  the 
thoughts  of  Plato,  Aristotle,  Homer,  Dante, 
and  countless  others;  you  will  see  the  repro- 
ductions of  great  painters  and  sculptors, 
brought  down  to*  us ;  for  that  matter,  we  may 
go  farther  back  into  the  past,  as  it  is  told  us 
by  the  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  tiles;  all  the 
works  of  the  great  musicians  are  ours  also;  the 
great  handwriting  of  the  ages  is  saying  silently 
in  our  shop  windows,  "Man  has  transcended 
time ;  man  shall  make  himself  immortal !" 
Then,  too,  we  see  in  these  poems  of  com- 


Our  Shop  Windows.  27 

merce  the  record  of  man  transcending  space. 
Once  man  could  only  go  as  far  as  he  could 
walk,  touch  only  what  he  could  reach,  see  only 
as  far  as  his  eyesight  permitted.  But  the  spirit 
of  man  said,  "I  must  go  beyond  that;  am  I 
not  the  master  of  the  world?"  So  we  have 
displayed  for  us  in  these  shop  windows  trav- 
eling satchels,  valises,  trunks,  vehicles  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  transportation  telling  us 
of  the  speed  with  which  this  wonderful  "wish- 
ing carpet,"  upon  which  man  seats  himself, 
can  carry  him  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth.  The  old  tale  tells  us  that  all  the  Mo- 
hammedan caliphs  had  to  do  was  to  sit  down 
on-  the*  wishing  carpet  cross-legged  and  it  rose 
through  the. air,  carrying  them  wherever  they 
wished.  We  have  not  yet  reached  the  full  real- 
ization of  that  vision  of  the  Orient,  but  our 
genii  of  iron  has  laid  for  us  smooth  roadways 
across  the  prairie  and  the  desert,  and  we  seat 
ourselves  in  comfortable  chairs,  when,  presto! 
twenty-four  hours,  and  we  have  left  the  bleak 
ice  and  snow  of  northern  winter  and  find  our- 
selves in  the  genial  climate  of  Arkansas  or 
North  Carolina,  basking  in  springlike  sunshine ; 
or,  perchance,  by  throwing  a  few  more  hours 
into  the  magic  wishing  carpet  we  are  in  the 


28  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

midst  of  the  orange  graves  and  summer  heat  of 
Southern  California  or  Florida.  All  this  and 
more  the  shop  windows  tell  us.  Would  the 
merchantmen  fill  them  with  means  of  transpor- 
tation if  man  did  not  demand  it?  Again,  in 
another  form,  we  have  the  record  of  this  same 
mighty  conquest  over  space  illustrated  for  us. 
Stand  in  front  of  any  large  grocer's  windows 
and  you  may  count  a  dozen  different  parts  of 
the  globe  which  have  contributed  to  this  trium- 
phant song  of  conquest  over  space.  The  coffees 
of  Java,  the  teas  of  Ceylon,  the  spices  of  India, 
the  cocoanuts  of  Africa,  the  dates  of  Arabia, 
the  olives  of  Greece,  the  figs  of  Spain,  all  pro- 
claim his  triumph.  The  furs  of  Alaska,  the 
leathern  jackets  of  Siberia,  the  wood  of  Russia, 
the  plaids  of  Scotland,  tell  the  same  story. 

More  than  this,  they  are  telling  us  also  of 
that  deeper  spiritual  conquest  whereby  man  is 
learning  the  brotherhood  of  the  race.  The 
swarthy  Ethiopian  gathering  his  cocoanuts 
knows  that  there  are  other  men  somewhere  who 
will  receive  them.  If  there  is  a  famine  in  India, 
our  spice  markets  register  the  same  for  us. 
Commerce  is  thus  telling  not  only  of  man's 
mental  conquest  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  but 
also  of  that  slow,  but  mighty  banding  together 


Our  Shop  Windows.  29 

of  the  human  race,  made  all  in  the  image  of  the 
one  God.  This  is  confirmed  as  we  stop  in  front 
of  a  window  filled  with  stationery  and  writing 
materials;  not  only  do  we  depend  upon  each 
other  for  our  food,  clothing  and  shelter,  but  the 
exchanges  of  thought,  of  sympathy,  of  love, 
and  of  consolation,  are  poured  forth  upon  a 
sheet  of  paper  folded  into  the  concealing  en- 
velope and  sent  to  our  loved  ones  with  perfect 
safety,  by  that  all-unifying  institution,  devised 
by  man,  commonly  called  the  postern"  ce.  When 
we  realize  what  perfect  security  is  granted  by 
our  postal  system,  how,  if  necessary,  the  whole 
United  States  army  will  be  called  out  to  defend 
and  transmit  any  message  of  yours  and  mine 
to  the  utmost  ends  of  the  eartfi,  we  look  upon 
the  postoffice  building  almost  as  a  temple,  if 
not  for  the  worship  of  God,  at  least  for  the 
glorification  of  man's  ethical  consciousness  of 
his  kinship  to  his  brother.  All  this  is  hinted  by 
the  stationery  window. 

Even  as  they  tell  of  our  human  needs  and 
uses  do  these  shop  windows  tell  us  of  our  power 
to  ascend  through  space.  When  on  the  starlit 
evening  you  pass  a  man  on  the  street  corner 
calling  out  that  for  ten  cents  you  can  get  a 
view  of  the  moon  or  of  Jupiter;  is  that  all  he 


30  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

and  his  instrument  are  saying?  Is  he  not  call- 
ing you  to  come  and  see  the  powerful  genii 
whom  we  have  captured  and  who  enables  the 
weak  human  eye  to  transcend  space  and  go  into 
the  farthest  part  of  the  solar  system  and  ascer- 
tain what  there  is  there  to  be  found  for  man 
to  conquer  ?  Pass  by  an  optician's  window  and 
what  are  those  miscroscopes  and  lenses  saying? 
Such  an  one  can  be  bought  for  $1.50?  Such 
another  for  $7.50?  Another  for  $65?  Or 
$100  ?  Is  that  all?  No.  They  are  telling  us 
that  the  mind  of  man  has  taken  the  sands  of  the 
seashore  and  has  compelled  them  to  yield  up  to 
him  their  inner  secrets,  until  he  can  now  pierce 
to  the  center  of  the  crystal  world,  or  analyze 
the  heart  of  the  tiniest  flower,  or  to  give  him 
the  marvelous  geometric  structure  and  inde- 
scribable beauty  of  coloring  which  the  minutest 
air-pore  of  the  leaf  has  concealed  beneath  its 
shining  green  surface. 

Not  only  do  we  see  evidences  of  man's  con- 
quest over  nature,  but  we  are  led  to  look  for  and 
to  find  whole  volumes  on  the  deeper  relation- 
ships of  man  to  man  in  these  same  shop  win- 
dows. They  are  the  poor  man's  university. 
You  say  to  me,  "If  I  could  travel  I  would  know 
the  world;  if  I  were  educated  I  could  under- 


Our  Shop  Windows.  31 

stand  my  fellowman,  but,  alas,  I  am  confined 
to  my  home,  my  schoolroom,  my  desk,  my 
counter;  I  have  no  opportunity  for  study." 
Whereas  the  wonderful  shop  windows  bring  not 
only  the  vast  treasures  of  the  material  world  to 
us,  but  subject-matter  also  for  the  deepest 
studies  in  sociology  and  ethics;  more  real  cul- 
ture may  be  derived  from  the  right  use  of  our 
city  shop  windows  than  from  weeks  of  opera, 
theatre  or  lecture  courses.  The  business  man- 
ager of  one  of  our  large  dry  goods  stores  once 
told  me  that  the  window-dressers  pondered 
each  week  their  displays  as  much  as  did  any 
manager  his  coming  opera.  This  I  have  been 
led  to  verify  many  a  time.  A  good  illustration 
of  the  sermon  which  a  shop  window  display 
may  preach  was  to  be  seen  at  the  time  of  the 
G.  A.  R.  encampment  in  Chicago';  most  of 
the  shop  windows  were  gorgeous  in  red,  white 
and  blue  bunting,  with  various  arrangements  of 
our  nation's  flag,  guns,  cannons,  soldiers  and 
sailors,  all  speaking  in  their  silent  way  of  the 
triumph  of  war,  until  unconsciously  I  found 
myself  keeping  time  with  the  multitude  to  the 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  the  soldier's  march; 
suddenly  my  attention  was  arrested  by  one  win- 
dow different  from  the  rest.  The  background 


32  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

was  a  cool,  soft  green;  in  the  middle  of  the 
window  stood  the  tall,  stately  form  of  an  angel, 
clothed  in  white,  with  the  spread  wings  gently 
drooping  in  the  attitude  of  protecting  love;  be- 
neath her  feet  was  a  cannon  which  was  over- 
grown with  ivy ;  at  its  side  sat  a  li'ttle  child  ap- 
parently playing  with  a  rusty  cannon-ball  as 
with  a  toy.  Two  or  three  white  doves  were  so 
arranged  as  if  they  were  gently  flying  through 
the  air  ready  to  spread  the  tranquil  message  of 
peace  to  the  farthest  ends  of  our  land.  The 
whole  was  so  simple,  so  pure,  and  so  tranquil, 
that  I  felt  the  din  of  war  hush  and  heard  the 
silent  voice  of  conscience  saying,  "The  triumphs 
of  peace  are  greater  than  those  of  war;  the 
heroes  in  life  are  mightier  than  those  of  the 
battle-field."  There  was  no  possible  misun- 
derstanding of  the  lesson  taught,  of  the  song 
sung  by  this  window,  "Peace  on  earth !  Good 
will  to  men !"  And  many  anotfier  comes  with 
its  message  of  man's  social  conditions  and 
needs,  though  not  always  so  beautifully  por- 
trayed as  in  this  particular  window. 

The  sociological  problem  is  thrust  upon  us 
inevitably  as  we  observe  side  by  side  the  beau- 
tiful and  ugly,  the  useful  and  the  useless,  the 
rare  and  the  commonplace,  things  which  tell  us 


•Our  Shop  Windozvs.  33 

of  traditions  that  still  shackle  mankind  and 
womankind  (as  illustrations  of  these,  for  in- 
stance, as  for  example  .the  gun  and  the  corset), 
and  of  those  that  free  him  or  her,  (such  as  the 
spy-glass  and  the  carpet-sweeper).  Here  we 
see  the  poor  man's  economies  and  the  rich 
man's  luxury,  and  a  whole  world  of  sociologi- 
cal problems  open  out  before  us  as  we  see  the 
useless,  foolish  extravagance  on  the  one  side, 
the  pinch,  the  poverty  and  lack  of  management 
on  the  other. 

The  degree  of  prosperity  to  which  any  city 
has  attained,  as  well  as  its  standard  of  beauty, 
may  be  measured  by  its  shop  windows.  In 
fact,  the  civilization  of  any  era  may  be  read 
as  fully  by  its  shop  windows  as  by  its  historical 
statistics.  It  would  indeed  be  an  interesting 
Study  of  social  conditions  could  we  have  a  stere- 
opticon  lecture  illustrating  the  shop  windows 
of  a  Siberian  village,  a  Turkish  capitol,  a  Paris- 
ian boulevard,  and  an  American  Broadway. 
We  would  see  in  them  the  gradual  unfolding  of 
man's  wants  and  desires,  increasing  as  his 
power  to  supply  them  increases. 

These  same  windows  give  to  us  a  psycho- 
logical study  of  supply  and  demand.  A  few 
years  ago  I  was  asked  by  a  friend  to  invest  a 
certain  sum  of  money  in  presents  for  her  chil- 


34  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

dren.  Wishing  to  do  the  most  possible  with  th' ' 
money,  I  made  a  tour  of  a  number  of  the  Christ- 
mas displays  of  the  toy  departments  of  several 
of  our  large  stores.  What  do  you  suppose  were 
the  gifts  I  found  there  displayed,  ready  for  wo- 
men purchasers  to  present  to  their  fathers,  hus- 
bands, sons,  or  lovers?  Pipes,  cigar  holders, 
ash  trays,  and  various  other  appointments  of  & 
smoker's  outfit.  On  the  other  hand,  with  equal 
emphasis,  was  told  the  chief  demand  by  woman- 
kind in  the  abundant  supply  of  manicure  and 
other  toilet  articles.  Knowing  the  inevitable 
law  that  it  is  the  demand  which  creates  the 
supply,  there  is  but  one  conclusion  to  be  drawn, 
viz. :  that  women,  when  they  wish  to  please 
men,  give  them  gifts  of  self-indulgence,  and 
men,  when  they  desire  to  gratify  women,  give 
them  gifts  demanded  by  their  vanity;  and  the 
great  shadowy  lesson  stands  out  in  the  back- 
ground, what  do  our  boys  most  need  in  their 
training  ?  What  is  the  great  lack  in  the  educa- 
tion of  our  girls  ?  Is  it  that  our  gifts  shall  sup- 
ply the  demands  of  self-indulgence  and  vanity? 
Is  it  not  more  self-control  for  our  sons  and 
deeper  aims  and  purposes  in  life  for  our  daugh- 
ters? 

But  to  return  to  the  subject  in  hand.    In  this 


Our  Shop  Windows.  35 

study  of  the  shop  windows  we  come  across  that 
other  psychological  truth,  that  supply  some- 
times creates  demand.  Let  one  of  our  dry 
goods  store  windows  be  filled  with  attractive- 
looking  golf  capes,  and  half  the  women  who 
pass  that  store  will  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
they  really  need  a  golf  cape,  though  they  may 
have  several  jackets  and  coats  hanging  in  their 
wardrobes  at  home.  The  sight  of  an  attractive 
object  is  well  known  by  dealers  in  merchandise 
to  create  a  desire  for  the  same.  I  had  a  grocer 
tell  me  once  that  although  wire  netting  saved 
the  pilfering  of  nuts,  it  also  lessened  the  sale  of 
them,  the  sense  of  touch  adding  to  the  sense 
of  sight  and  smell  in  creating  a  desire  for  the 
same.  Our  fruit-venders  make  use  of  this  law 
by  projecting  their  wares  out  onto  the  side- 
walk, thus  appealing  to  the  sense  of  touch  and 
smell,  as  well  as  that  of  sight,  to  create  a  de- 
sire ;  and  a  pile  of  nuts  or  a  box  of  sweets  lying 
within  our  reach,  almost  touching  us  as  we  pass, 
will  awaken  stronger  craving  to  possess  them 
than  if  the  plate-glass  window  stood  between. 
Again,  we  may  study  how  well  these  mer- 
chants have  read  human  nature  when  they  dis- 
play "only  $1.00,  reduced  from  $1.50,"  "selling 
for  almost  nothing."  These  words  appeal,  in 


36  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

the  most  subtle  manner,  to  the  public  opinion, 
as  it  were,  concerning  the  value  of  the  bargain 
offered ;  although  we  know  that  they  have  been 
placed  there  by  interested  parties,  they  never- 
theless have  their  effect.  Merchants  are  as  true, 
if  not  truer,  students  of  humanity  as  are  schol- 
ars at  their  desk  or  preachers  in  their  pulpits. 
They  know  how  to  appeal  not  only  to  the  appe- 
tite and  vanity  and  public  opinion,  but  to  curi- 
osity and  to  an  ambition  to  be  with  the  ma- 
jority. They  also  know  how  to  suggest  the 
thought  that  such  and  such  a  thing  would  look 
attractive  in  your  or  my  home  or  office.  The 
book  lies  temptingly  open  in  the  window  as  if 
just  ready  to  be  read ;  two  or  three  books  stand 
in  a  row,  suggesting  to  you  how  they  would 
look  on  your  book-shelf.  The  skilled  displayer 
lays  the  handsomely  bound  volume  carelessly 
upon  a  table;  it  is  only  trie  clumsy  window- 
dresser  who  piles  books  up  as  if  they  were  so 
many  bars  of  soap  to  be  dried.  The  polished 
wood  furniture  has  a  piece  of  soft  upholstery 
thrown  carelessly  over  a  chair  or  dressingcase 
to  suggest  the  right  environment  of  such  ar- 
ticles. The  hard  coal  stove  has  a  lamp  burning 
within,  that  the  picture  of  a  fire  glowing  in  your 
own  home  may  add  its  appeal  to  the  other  argu- 


Our  Shop  Windows.  37 

ment.  A  baby's  cap  and  coat  are.  placed  upon  a 
blue-eyed,  rosy-cheeked  manikin;  and  what 
mother  is  there,  who  stopping  to  look  at  it,  does 
not  whisper  to  herself,  "My  baby  would  look 
sweeter  than  that  in  such  a  cap  and  coat  ?"  All 
sorts  of  suggestions  of  home  life,  of  social 
functions,  of  business  enterprises,  are  added  in 
the  arrangement  of  furniture,  fans,  gowns, 
tools,  desks,  et  cetera.  One  loses  half  the  poe- 
try of  life  who  cannot  see  beyond  the  mere  ar- 
ticles displayed  to  their  future  environment; 
and  the  skilled  window-dresser,  like  the  true 
artist  in  other  lines  of  life,  lends  us  his  skill 
that  we  may  see  the  picture  aright. 

From  the  standpoint  of  ethics  and  law,  think 
of  what  those  frail  plate-glass  windows  mean ; 
how  fragile  they  are,  and  yet  they  protect  as 
much  as  would  one  half-hundred  policemen. 
They  are  symbols  of  the  ethical  world  in  which 
we  live.  The  majesty  of  the  law  is  proclaimed 
by  them. 

An  interesting  illustration  of  the  different 
between  the  Oriental  idea  of  the  security  and 
protection  which  law  affords  as  contrasted  with 
that  of  the  Occidental  came  into  my  experience 
not  long  ago.  I  chanced  to  be  passing  by  one 
of  those  small  shops  which  contain  Oriental 


38  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

goods,  and,  seeing  some  crystals  in  the  window, 
I  went  in  to  inquire  the  price  of  them.  A  slen- 
der almond-eyed  Oriental,  with  a  smooth,  subtle 
voice  and  sinuous  bend  of  body,  came  forward 
to  answer  my  inquiries.  In  a  few  moments  we 
were  engaged  in  conversation  concerning  crys- 
tals in  general  and  his  very  fine  collection  in 
particular.  As  my  interest  in  the  subject  was 
unfolded,  he  became  more  friendly,  and  fin- 
ally said,  "You  seem  to  have  some  knowledge 
of  the  subject  of  gems;  would  you  like  to  see 
some  rare  specimens?"  I,  of  course,  replied 
that  I  would.  Then,  turning  and  giving  a  fur- 
tive look  around  the  small  shop  as  if  to  see  that 
no  robbers  or  brigands  were  present,  he  went 
to  a  small  safe  in  the  rear,  and  unlocking  it  with 
a  stealthy  motion,  took  from  its  recesses  a  little 
leather  case,  upon  opening  which  there  came  to 
view  the  most  magnificent  amethyst  that  I  had 
ever  seen ;  its  full,  liquid,  purple  depths  seemed 
to  tell  of  that  mystery  of  beauty  which  belongs 
peculiarly  to  the  heart  of  deep  gems.  My  ex- 
clamations of  delight  over  it  caused  him  to  ven- 
ture to  produce  another  small  leathern  case  con- 
taining a  huge  topaz,  somewhat  larger  than  the 
ordinary  hen's  egg.  After  I  had  admired  the 
gems  sufficiently,  he  again  locked  them  up  in 


Our  Shop  Windows.  39 

his  safe,  and  then  coming  near  to  me,  said,  in  a 
low,  secretive  tone  of  voice,  "There  are  not 
ten  people  in  the  city  of  Chicago  who  know  of 
these  gems ;  I  would  not  dare  to  let  it  be  gener- 
ally known  that  I  possessed  anything  so  valu- 
able." After  a  few  words  of  courteous  appre- 
ciation of  his  kindness,  I  passed  on  down  the 
street,  and  within  two  blocks  came  upon  one  of 
our  large  jewelry  establishments,  where,  fear- 
lessly displayed  in  the  corner  window,  blazed 
a  number  of  magnificent  diamonds,  worth,  in  all 
probability,  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty  times  that  of 
the  hidden  gems  of  the  Orient  which  I  had  just 
seen.  The  former  merchant  had  been  born  and 
bred  in  the  land  of  tyranny  and  despotism ;  the 
latter  showed  by  his  shop  windows  that  he  had 
breathed  the  air  of  freedom  and  knew  the 
majesty  and  power  of  that  ethical  law  which 
commands  respect  for  property  and  which  be- 
comes an  unconscious  part  of  each  American 
child's  training. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  the  study  of  some  of 
the  silent  means  by  which  the  thinking  mer- 
chant attracts  our  attention  to  his  shop  win- 
dows. Activity  is  one  of  the  chief  elements 
of  human  consciousness,  and  therefore  by  the 
law  of  inner  and  outer  recognition,  our  atten- 


40  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

tion  is  called  soonest  to  moving  objects.  This 
is  a  psychological  fact  well  known  to  students. 
The  merchants  have  seized  upon  this,  and  our 
eyes  are  drawn  instinctively  to  the  lady's  opera 
cloak  or  street  garment  upon  the  form  that 
slowly  and  impressively  revolves  round  and 
round  upon  its  standard.  Even  an  excess  of 
motion  is  sometimes  indulged  in,  when  we  pass 
windows  where  whirligigs  are  loudly  and 
harshly  calling  for  our  attention,  but  in  reality 
distracting  it  from  the  objects  they  would  ex- 
hibit. 

Another  psychological  fact  is  used  by  the 
merchant  in  their  various  displays  of  scenes  of 
humor.  Near  here  there  may  be  seen  a  wax 
image  of  a  little  boy  stealing  jam,  and  slowly 
turning  his  head  around  to  see  if  his  mother  is 
approaching,  then  turning  hurriedly  and  stuff- 
ing his  jam-besmeared  fingers  into  his  mouth. 
We,  with  the  rest  of  the  passers-by,  stand 
laughingly  before  it,  the  humor  of  the  thing, 
touching  an  inborn  instinct,  and  the  good  na- 
ture produced  by  the  laugh  causes"  us  to  feel 
pleasantly  inclined  toward  that  store,  and,  un- 
consciously, if  we  are  upon  purchase  bent,  we 
enter  the  door  which  stands  invitingly  open 
near  at  hand. 


Our  Shop  Windows.  41 

As  the  holiday  season  approaches,  all  sorts 
of  humorous  displays  are  made ;  sometimes  bur- 
lesque, occasionally  grotesque,  and  even  coarse 
jokes  are  put  forth  in  the  shop  windows,  and 
are  sure  to  draw  their  audiences. 

The  invention  of  electric  light  has  almost 
revolutionized  the  decoration  and  adornment  of 
shop  windows,  until  now  an  evening  walk  down 
one  of  our  business  streets  at  Christmas  time 
reminds  one  of  the  jeweled  gardens  in  the  story 
of  Aladdin's  lamp. 

We  cannot  here  enter  into  detail  concerning 
the  aesthetic  use  of  color  by  our  artists;  gold 
or  silver  ware  is  placed  in  cases  lined  harmoni- 
ously with  white,  pale  blue,  pink  or  royal  purple 
satin;  dainty  white  goods  have  corresponding 
backgrounds  of  pale  greens,  lavenders  and 
buffs.  Strong  metal  goods  and  solid  furniture 
have  drapings  behind  them  of  warm,  rich  col- 
oring, even  windows  full  of  prosaic  black  um- 
brellas have  dashes  of  attractive  color,  splashed 
upon  them,  as  it  were,  by  means  of  huge  bows 
of  scarlet  or  orange  colored  ribbon,  giving  ex- 
actly the  high  light  needed  to  make  the  win- 
dows attractive.  In  fact,  the  use  of  color  as 
indicating  the  class  to  whom  the  appeal  is  made 
can  easily  be  tested  by  a  walk  through  any  one 


42  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

of  our  cross  streets  which  lead  from  the  ave- 
nues of  wealth,  refinement  and  culture  to  those 
districts  where  the  dance  hall  is  the  principal 
amusement  and  the  hand  organ  produces  the 
highest  form  of  musical  enjoyment.  Let  us 
simply  observe  the  millinery  windows;  they 
begin  with  the  display  of  soft  roses,  made 
softer  still  by  veils  of  lace  or  illusion;  warm, 
rich,  velvet  hats,  trimmed  with  furs,  flowers 
and  burnished  gold,  veritable  poems  of  color; 
little  by  little  the  daintiness  and  the  richness 
disappear,  and  plain  matter-of-fact  combina- 
tions in  good  substantial  colors  take  their  place ; 
farther  along,  harsh  tones  of  red  and  purple 
and  green  begin  to  announce  the  coming  dis- 
cords ;  when  we  reach  the  unfortunate  districts 
where  saloons  are  allowed  to  place  their  tempta- 
tions every  third  or  fourth  door,  we  see  the 
misery,  the  squalor,  and  the  human  degreda- 
tion  shown  by  the  glaring,  flaunting,  self-as- 
sertive colors  displayed  in  the  millinery  win- 
dows, colors  which  fairly  swear  at  and  fight 
with  each  other,  the  shopkeepers  knowing,  with 
a  knowledge  born  of  experience,  what  color 
will  appeal  to  the  inner  condition  of  his  pur- 
chaser. The  pathos  as  well  as  the  poverty  of 


Our  Shop  Windows.  43 

life  is  thus  shown  us  by  these  silent  teachers,  our 
shop  windows. 

Last,  but  not  least,  within  shop  windows 
lie  volumes  on  morals,  in  fact  a  whole  world 
of  opportunity  for  the  disciplining  of  the  moral 
will,  without  which  discipline  no  life  is  of  much 
use.  None  of  us  can  buy  all  that  the  shop  win- 
dows offer  for  sale,  and  but  few  of  us  can  pur- 
chase all  that  attracts  us  in  the  shop  windows. 
So  necessarily  there  comes  a  choosing,  "Shall 
I  buy  this  thing  and  do  without  that?"  Or, 
"Shall  I  take  this  thing  and  leave  this  un- 
touched?" Thus  in  the  simplest  and  most  ma- 
terial way  we  see  the  beginning  of  that  great 
character-forming  activity,  the  process  of  se- 
lecting, which  Emerson  has  so  uniquely  set 
forth  in  his  poem  of  "The  Days" : 

"Daughters  of  Time,  the  hypocritic  Days 
Muffled  and  dumb  like  barefoot  dervishes, 
And  marching  single  in  an  endless  file 
Bring  diadems  and  fagots  in  their  hands; 
To  each  they  offer  gifts  after  his  will — 
Bread,  kingdoms, stars,  and  the  sky  that  holds  them  all. 

"I  in  my  pleached  garden  watched  the  pomp, 
Forgot  my  morning  wishes,  hastily 
Took  a  few  herbs  and  apples,  and  the  Day 
Turned  and  departed  silent.    I,  too  late, 
Under  her,  solemn  fillet,  saw  the  scorn!  " 


44  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

"It  lies  not  in  our  stars,  but  in  ourselves," 
whether  we  shall  end  life  with  diadems  upon 
our  heads  or  fagots  in  our  hands!  No  one 
who  has  read  Booker  T.  Washington's  auto- 
biography will  ever  say  again  that  heredity 
or  environment  stand  unconquerable  before 
the  self-activity  of  the  human  soul.  There  we 
see  the  "man  with  the  hoe"  slowly  transform- 
ing himself  into  a  prince  among  men,  by  his 
constant  determined  choosing  of  kingdom 
and  stars  rather  than  of  herbs  and  apples. 

We  are  forever  choosing  and  our  choosing 
makes  our  living.  I  once  knew  a  woman 
whose  life  was  lived  on  so  high  a  plane  that 
she  was  able  to  say  that  she  never  had  to  make 
a  sacrifice.  "Because,"  she  explained,  "I  al- 
ways weigh  up  the  two  conflicting  lines  of  con- 
duct to  see  which  is  the  higher,  and  surely  to 
choose  the  higher  is  not  a  sacrifice !"  She  had 
reached  the  insight  into  the  true  inner  meaning 
of  choice. 

Froebel  well  expresses  this  deep  inner  sig- 
nificance of  choosing,  and  the  sweet,  simple 
way  in  which  it  may  be  guided  and  developed 
in  the  little  child,  by  those  two  songs  in  his 
"Mother-Play  Book,"  entitled  "The  Toyman 
and  the  Maiden,"  and  "The  Toyman  and  the 


Our  Shop  Windows.  45 

Boy."  In  Miss  Blow's  commentary*  on  the 
same  she  says :  "The  mart  of  life  has  its 
claims  and  its  lessons.  When  either  a  child  or 
a  man  has  become  inwardly  clear  to  himself, 
and  has  gained  the  mastery  over  himself,  he 
may  go  to  this  mart  with  profit.  There  he  will 
find  hundreds  of  things  to  be  set  not  only  in 
physical,  but  in  spiritual  relations  to  himself 
and  to  others.  In  the  needs  of  man,  revealed 
by  the  products  of  man,  he  may  behold  human 
nature  and  human  life  reflected  as  in  a  mirror. 
Gazing  into  this  mirror,  he  will  learn  to  recog- 
nize his  own  genuine  needs,  and  grow  able  to 
choose  for  himself  both  the  things  which  are 
outwardly  useful  and  those  which  will  edify  and 
gladden  his  soul.  Frequenting  thus  the  great 
mart  of  life,  he  wins  from  it  a  really  pious  joy. 

"Such  a  joy  the  child  is  blindly  seeking 
when  he  longs  to  go  to  the  market  and  the  shop. 
He  feels  its  premonitory  thrill  as  he  gazes  at 
the  motley  stalls  of  the  one  and  the  brilliant 
counters  of  the  other. 

"In  the  rich  mart  of  life,  each  person  may 
choose  for  himself  beautiful  and  useful  things. 
Special  choices  will  be  determined  with  age,  sex 

"The  Mottoes  and  Commentaries  of  Froebel's  Mother-Play. 
Mottoes  by  Henrietta  R.  Eliot.  Commentaries  by  Susan  E.  Blow. 


46  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

and  vocation.  The  little  girl,  the  maiden,  the 
mother,  the  housewife,  will  desire  things  which 
serve  and  adorn  the  home,  things  which  lighten 
the  duties  and  augment  the  charm  of  family 
life.  The  boy,  the  youth,  the  man,  the  father, 
will  wish  to  protect  his  home,  and  his  choices 
will  be  influenced  by  this  desire.  The  woman 
will  prefer  beautiful  things;  the  man  strong 
things.  Blending  in  harmonious  union,  the 
strong  and  the  beautiful  produce  the  good. 

"Understanding  that  they  complement  each 
other,  man  and  woman  are  transfigured  from 
external  counterparts  into  a  spiritual  unity, 
and  with  their  mutual  recognition  life  becomes 
one,  whole,  complete. 

"A  prescient  feeling  of  the  inner  in  the  outer 
drives  the  child  to  the  market  and  the  shop. 
He  longs  to  look  at  life  in  a  mirror,  to  find 
himself  through  looking,  and  to  win  from  this 
rich  experience  the  power  and  the  means  of 
embodying  his  own  deep  selfhood. 

"Hence,  your  child,  if  he  be  truly  childlike, 
will  not  crave  physical  possession  of  all  the 
things  he  sees.  His  heart's  desire  will  be  fully 
satisfied  by  a  doll  or  a  cart,  a  whistle  or  a 
sheep,  provided  only  that  in  and  through  his 


Our  Shop  Windows.  47 

toys  he  finds  and  represents  himself  and  his 
Httle  world." 

Mrs.  Eliot  has  translated  the  mottoes  to 
these  two  songs  into  the  following  suggestive 
verses,  which  it  would  be  well  for  every  mother 
to  ponder,  every  teacher  to  study : 

"The  child,  with  prescience  of  life's  complex  joys, 
Looks  with  delight  upon  the  shopman's  toys. 
The  mother,  in  whose  heart  these  joys  have  smiled, 
With  present  gladness  looks  upon  her  child." 

"The  toyman  spreads  his  wares  with  skillful  hand, 
While  in  the  boy's  mind,  all  unbid,  arise 
Vague  stirrings  which  he  cannot  understand — 
Strange  newborn  yearnings  towards  life's  great  em- 
prise ; 

Yearnings,  which  wisely  trained,  will  grow  at  length 
To  motive  power,  still  strengthening  with  his 
strength." 

Thus  we  see  how  the  most  material  things 
about  us  may  become  our  spiritual  teachers, 
guiding,  disciplining  and  developing  us. 


II. 

DUMB  STONE  AND  MARBLE. 


Never  will  I  forget  an  experience  which 
came  to  me  during  the  World's  Fair  at  Chi- 
cago. I  was  sitting  one  late  afternoon  in  June 
in  the  Court  of  Honor  dreamily  drinking  in 
its  indescribable  charm,  when  my  attention  was 
suddenly  arrested  by  the  face  of  a  shabbily- 
dressed,  hungry-looking  little  man  whose  body 
was  deformed  and  twisted  beyond  hope  of  rem- 
edy. He  stood,  motionless,  gazing  at  the  scene 
before  him.  The  white  columns  of  the  peristyle 
stood  out  strong  and  distinct  against  the  dark- 
ening blue  of  the  lake  beyond,  while  the  setting 
sun  gilded  the  long  colonade  of  the  Agricul- 
tural building,  the  lengthening  shadows  giving 
an  added  touch  of  almost  superhuman  beauty 
to  the  scene.  The  look  of  radiant  happiness 
upon  the  poor  man's  face  was  so  exalted  that  I, 
as  well  as  he,  forgot  the  external  defects  of 

48 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  49 

his  body,  forgot  all  limitations;  and  for  the 
time  being  my  spirits  rose  to  that  sublime 
height,  which  is  our  surest  evidence  of  im- 
mortality. Such  ts  the  power  of  beauty  upon 
the  human  soul! 

The  fair  white  city  has  vanished,  as  does  the 
outer  form  of  many  a  noble  creation,  but  its 
influence,  like  that  of  a  great  life,  remains  with 
us. 

The  silent  language  of  beautiful  architecture 
has  been  heard  by  the  American  people — and 
will  never  again  be  forgotten.  For  architec- 
ture is  a  language  as  much  as  is  music.  It  has 
been  most  significantly  called  "frozen  music," 
in  that  it  catches  in  the  same  undefinable  way 
the  emotions  of  the  artist  and  transmits  them  to 
the  beholder.  As  we  are  lifted  up  by  the  great 
music,  we  know  not  how,  to  the  lofty  mood 
of  the  composer,  so,  too,  in  the  lines  and  forms 
of  truly  great  architecture  we  may  feel  the 
greatness  of  the  minds  that  created  it.  Aye, 
if  studied  aright,  these  stone  autobiographies 
of  great  souls  tell  us  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  in 
which  they  were  built  as  surely  as  do  the  laws 
or  the  literature  of  the  same  era. 

In  Egyptian  architecture  the  huge  pyramids 
raise  themselves  above  the  level  plain,  but  the 


50  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

beholder  feels  that  it  is  a  hindered  effort  to 
reach  skyward.  The  mighty  pile  is  not  yet 
freed  from  the  heaviness  of  its  building  ma- 
terial. Does  not  this  clinging  to  earth,  so 
manifest  in  the  temples  and  tombs  of  Egypt, 
correspond  with  the  idea  of  immortality  held 
by  Egypt's  people?  It  is  not  a  freeing  from 
the  body,  but  a  return  to  the  body  after  a  cer- 
tain lapse  of  years.  Even  their  columns  are 
heavy  and  sugestive  of  weight  rather  than  sup- 
port. In  the  same  subtle  story  that  comes  to 
us  when  we  look  upon  the  crouching  lion  body 
of  the  Sphynx,  with  its  human  head,  the  com- 
mingling of  the  bestial  and  the  divine.  Her- 
odotus tells  us  of  this  same  dual  nature  of  the 
Egyptian  civilization;  and  the  story  of  Joseph 
lets  us  catch  glimpses  of  the  Pharaohs  and  a 
nation  of  slaves.  The  silent  testimony  of  art 
is  as  true  as  is  the  record  of  the  court,  or  the 
chronicles  of  the  priesthood.  The  point  is  up- 
lifted, the  head  is  human — a  despot  rules !  The 
mass  of  the  building  lies  close  to  earth,  as  do 
the  majority  of  the  nation!  The  analogy  is 
striking. 

In  the  early  Asiatic  architecture  we  see 
everywhere  a  vague,  undefined  massiveness. 
Their  temples  are  hewn  out  of  the  living  rock, 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  51 

but  are  not  yet  separated  from  the  source  of 
their  being.  Is  not  this  the  external  picture  of 
the  religious  belief  that  scorns  delight  of  this 
life  and  dreamily  longs  for  oblivion  in  the  be- 
yond by  the  merging  of  the  individual  into  the 
divine?  Are  they  not  "Nirvana,"  uttered  in 
stone?  The  intricate,  endless  tracery  of  their 
facades  tallies  with  the  endless  details  of  the 
ceremonies  of  their  religious  and  social  life.  It 
must  be  so,  for  the  same  stage  of  human  devel- 
opment conceived  them  both. 

If  we  pass  on  to  the  architecture  of  China, 
their  pagodas  tell,  in  unmistakable  language, 
of  the  caste  idea,  which  has  held  China  in  bond- 
age for  ages;  each  story  is  distinct  and  sepa- 
rate, a  bearer  of  the  story  above  it.  No  thought 
now  of  the  one  man  for  whom  all  labor,  as  in 
Egypt,  nor  of  the  vague  mystery  of  East  In- 
dian thought,  but  story  distinctly  built  upon 
story,  each  unalterable  and  in  its  own  place — 
divided,  separate,  distinct  every  time.  The 
everlasting  fiat  of  caste  in  human  society  is  here 
proclaimed  by  the  silent  architecture.  As  each 
man  must  follow  the  calling  of  his  forefathers 
or  die,  so,  too,  the  bottom  story  must  remain  a 
bottom  story,  no  reaching  up  of  lines  from 
earth  to  heaven  as  we  see  in  later  buildings. 


52  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

When  we  turn  to  the  more  pleasing  and 
beautiful  architecture  of  Greece,  we  can  read 
again  in  its  glistening  marble  the  same  spiritual 
utterances  of  its  people  that  we  find  in  its  im- 
mortal literature  and  its  enduring  forms  of 
government.  Here  the  individual  is  distinctly 
brought  out — pillar  after  pillar  stands  in  perfect 
equality,  all  bearing  the  superstructure,  which 
protects  and  shelters  all.  The  rhythm,  poetry, 
symmetry  and  beauty  of  Greek  life  and  Greek 
thought  is  fairly  sung  by  her  marble  temples, 
even  in  their  ruined  condition  of  to-day.  Greek 
balance  and  harmony  are  proclaimed  by  these 
lasting  monuments.  Even  Greek  logic  is  told, 
in  that  there  is  no  part  of  her  buildings  which 
is  not  for  a  purpose.  No  useless  pillars  and 
superflous  arches  such  as  we  find  in  later  archi- 
tecture. Is  not  this  the  same  contentment  that 
we  find  manifested  in  the  Greek  character  as 
sketched  for  us  by  her  great  poets?  Happy 
and  serene,  yet  not  grossly  enamored  of  life, 
willing  to  die  for  a  principle  as  shown  by  the 
Trojan  war — and  yet  Achilles,  the  heroic  soul 
of  that  war,  meets  Ulysses  in  the  under  world 
and  tells  him  that  he  longs  to  be  on  earth  again. 
"Be  beautiful  on  this  earth  and  do  not  attempt 
to  leave  it,  nor  rise  too  far  beyond  it,"  whisper 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  53 

the  Greek  temples,  and  Greek  ethics  and  Greek 
religion  go  no  further.  Even  in  the  enlarged 
and  modified  form  of  Greek  architecture  which 
the  Columbian  Exposition  gave  to  us,  we  felt 
a  longing  to  live  with  it  rather  than  to  rise 
above  it. 

Rome  gives  us  her  two  phases  of  civilization 
in  her  buildings  as  clearly  and  as  distinctly  as 
in  her  laws  and  her  literature.  A  Roman 
basilica,  a  court  of  justice,  is  straight,  angular, 
stern  and  uncompromising,  fit  home  for  that 
code  of  justice  which  molded  the  world-con- 
sciousness into  respect  for  those  laws  that  have 
become  the  laws  of  all  civilized  nations.  But 
Rome  was  the  colonizer,  the  all-conquering  em- 
pire, also,  and  unconsciously  shall  we  say,  the 
overreaching  dome  rose  into  prominence  with 
its  supporting  ribs  coming  from  every  point 
of  the  compass  to  the  one  crowning  center,  true 
symbol  of  imperial  Rome  to  which  all  roads 
were  said  to  lead.  Dr.  Denton  Snider  has  ex- 
plained so  clearly  the  significance  of  the  Roman 
dome  in  his  "World's  Fair  Studies,"  that  any 
words  of  mine  would  add  but  little  to  the 
thought.  Roman  architecture  proclaims  the 
spirit  of  a  proud,  strong,  great,  all-embracing 
people,  yet  content  for  the  most  part  with  the 


54  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

things  of  this  earth.  The  dome  does  not  soar 
as  do  the  spires  and  towers  of  a  later  civiliza- 
tion. 

In  Gothic  architecture  we  see  rising  the 
spirit  of  the  middle  ages.  The  dreaming  of 
another  and  a  higher  life.  The  longing  to  be 
freed  from  the  body.  The  vast  stone  cathedral, 
with  its  pointed  windows  and  perpendicular 
lines  and  soaring  spires,  was,  to  again  quote 
from  Dr.  Snider,  "like  a  huge  giant  lying  prone 
upon  the  ground  with  long  arms  upstretched 
toward  heaven,  struggling  and  striving  to  rise, 
yet  seemingly  unable  to  lift  himself  up,  of  the 
earth  earthy."  Here  we  have  the  sinner  and 
the  saint  contending  in  the  souls  of  men  who 
build  these  cathedrals.  The  creed  that  pro- 
nounced man  to  be  a  worm  in  the  dust,  and  yet 
an  archangel,  is  here  written  in  unalterable 
lines.  Do  they  not  tell  to  us,  with  the  eloquence 
that  marble  alone  can  use,  the  whole  history  of 
that  civilization  which  caused  man  to  flee  from 
society  and  shut  himself  up  in  convents  and 
monasteries  ?  The  sense  of  the  weight  of  sin  is 
here — and  yet  the  aspiration  of  faith  that  could 
remove  mountains  is  also  here.  The  whole 
struggle  of  the  early  Christian  thought  is 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  55 

poured  forth  in  these  poems  of  stone  that  it 
took  hundreds  of  years  and  generations  of 
loving,  devoted  arstists  to  complete.  No  won- 
der that  we  bow  our  heads  in  reverence  when 
we  enter  a  Gothic  cathedral ! 

The  great  revival  of  learning  which  swept 
over  Europe  and  brought  men  back  to  the 
study  of  Greek  thought  and  a  larger  life  than 
the  middle  ages  had  permitted,  is  recorded  by 
the  architecture  of  the  Renaissance  as  clearly 
as  by  the  writings  of  that  brilliant  era,  or  by  its 
new  forms  of  political  activity;  but  the  record 
of  Architecture  has  this  advantage,  the  ideals 
built  into  stone  and  the  emotions  carved  upon 
marble  could  not  be  warped  by  the  translator, 
nor  misunderstood  by  the  historian.  They 
stand  unaltered,  exactly  as  they  were  left  by 
their  makers. 

Thus  we  see  that  every  great  civilization 
has  shown  itself  to  be  a  united  whole  by  leav- 
ing to  mankind  a  distinct  and  characteristic 
record  of  itself  in  the  silent  but  enduring  wit- 
nesses of  stone  and  marble  that  stand  upon  its 
hill  tops,  or  in  its  marts,  witnesses  which  tell 
in  unerring  language,  of  the  spiritual  exalta- 
tion or  debasement  of  the  era!  For  architec- 
ture is  the  art  that  appeals  most  to  national, 


56  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

as  well  as  to  municipal  pride.  It  is  the  art  in 
which  all  the  people  can  participate.  It  is 
therefore  the  one  that  gathers  up  and  reflects 
most  truly  the  taste  and  degree  of  culture  of  a 
nation. 

Music  and  the  Drama  enchant  for  a  brief 
hour.  Paintings  are  shut  within  the  great 
galleries  or  cathedrals.  Literature  is  for  the 
reading  public  only.  Sculpture,  alas,  is  hidden 
within  walls;  but  a  noble  building  stands  for 
hundreds  of  years  abiding  amidst  changing  hu- 
manity; it  silently  influences  generations  as 
they  come  and  go.  It  is,  as  it  were,  an  ever 
present  poem,  an  inspiring  sermon,  or  solemn 
dirge !  Architecture  has  a  language  of  its  own 
— which  all  must  read  either  consciously  with 
keen  enjoyment,  or  unconsciously  with  a  duller 
kind  of  pleasure.  By  day  and  by  night,  for 
high  and  for  low,  it  utters  its  message.  Its  in- 
fluence, either  perceptibly  or  imperceptibly,  is 
felt  by  all. 

The  very  fact  that  we  apply  terms  of  the 
spirit  to  forms  of  architecture  shows  that  man 
has  felt  the  subtle  connection  between  the  two. 
The  language  which  we  use  in  speaking  of  it  is 
perhaps  the  surest  sign  of  its  influence  upon 
us.  We  talk  of  "gentle  curves,"  or  "stubborn 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  57 

lines,"  of  "refined  or  voluptuous  styles,"  of  "no- 
ble buildings,"  and  of  "a  religious  feeling,"  or 
"debased  eras  of  architecture."  Is  it  not  a 
suggestive  analogy  that  in  Holy  Writ  the  para- 
dise of  unconscious  innocence  is  represented  as 
a  garden,  planted  by  the  Lord,  whereas,  the 
paradise  of  conscious  holiness  is  represented 
by  a  city  of  beautiful  architecture? 

The  abstract  lines  of  architecture  are  copies 
of  nothing  in  nature,  but  are  the  deliberate  ex- 
pression of  the  highest  creative  mood  of  the 
artist  and  are,  therefore,  the  soul  of  man  speak- 
ing to  the  soul  of  his  fellow  man  in  a  language 
created  by  the  soul,  not  borrowing  any  inter- 
mediate terms  from  the  forms  or  sounds  of 
earth.  When  we  begin  to  realize  this  we  know 
why  it  is  that  a  beautiful  building  affects  us  so 
strongly;  why  great  cathedrals  stir  and  up- 
lift us;  why  noble  domes  cause  noble  emotions 
to  awaken  within  us;  and  why  quiet,  well 
built  rows  of  houses  are  satisfying  to  the  peace- 
ful citizen. 

Architecture  more  than  any  other  art  is  the 
property  of  all  classes,  as  has  already  been  said. 
It  still  stands  when  the  concert  is  over  or  the 
opera  is  ended.  It  is  not  shut  within  walls, 
but  stands  in  the  open  air  that  every  sunbeam 


58  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

and  shadow  may  play  upon  it,  that  every  pass- 
ing cloud  may  change  the  tone  of  its  beauty. 
For  the  great  architect  takes  into  considera- 
tion the  painting  which  the  sunlight  and 
shadow  will  give  to  his  work  as  does  the  musi- 
cian the  use  of  volume  and  tone  in  expressing 
his  emotions.  Therefore  the  location  of  a 
building  has  much  to  do  with  its  form  and  de- 
tail. If  it  is  rightly  built,  that  is  built  sincerely 
to  express  in  a  noble  way  the  real  purpose  for 
which  it  is  built  and  is  rightly  placed,  it  stands 
a  beautiful,  silent  and  majestic  poem  in  stone 
or  marble  to  influence  and  ennoble  each  passing 
generation  of  the  children  of  men. 

Mr.  Henry  Van  Brunt  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
assert  in  his  most  helpful  and  interesting  book, 
"Greek  Lines,"  that  "lines  are  made  to  tell  the 
story  of  the  soul."  He  says  the  architectural 
growth  of  the  past  may  be  divided  into  three 
distinct,  though  related,  eras,  namely:  the 
Egyptian,  the  Greek,  and  the  Roman,  includ- 
ing under  the  latter  head  the  Roman,  Byzan- 
tine, Mahometan  Mediaeval,  and  Renaissance; 
and  that  the  chief  inner  characteristic  of  each  of 
these  periods  is  illustrated  by  a  single  line. 
First,  the  perpendicular,  uncompromising 
straight  line  represents  the  stern,  inflexible 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  59 

simplicity  of  the  tombs  and  obelisks  of  Egypt. 
The  same  lines  are  repeated  in  the  drawings 
upon  the  walls  of  these  monuments  representing 
the  death,  judgment,  and  doom  of  mankind. 
The  stern  soul  of  Egypt  thus  speaks  through  a 
single  line.  Nor  is  the  line  by  which  the  archi- 
tecture of  Greece  is  designated  less  significant. 
We  see  it  in  the  graceful  but  restrained  curve 
of  so  many  of  the  Greek  temples,  statues,  and 
urns.  It  tells  of  Greek  freedom  and  ease,  but 
also  of  Greek  self  control.  It  was  part  of  the 
civilization  of  Pericles  and  Plato,  of  Euripedes 
and  Apelles;  and  was  lost  sight  of  when  the 
philosophy  and  literature  of  the  same  era  were 
silenced.  Again,  when  Roman  arrogance  and 
self  assertion  made  quality  yield  to  quantity 
we  see  the  rounding  swell  of  the  quarter  circle 
joined  to  similar  quarter  circle  swelling  in  the 
opposite  direction,  so  often  found  in  the  ar- 
cades and  triumphant  arches,  in  the  vaulted 
halls  of  the  baths,  and  palaces  of  Rome.  It  is 
true  that  Greek  architecture  was  carried  to 
Rome.  But,  to  use  Mr.  Van  Brunt's  eloquent 
simile,  it  "was  chained  to  the  triumphant  car 
of  the  Roman  conquerers ;  the  beautiful  Greek 
pillars  no  longer  supported  the  shelter  of  the 
temple  of  the  Gods,  but  stood  as  useless  orna- 


60  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ments  at  the  doors  of  Roman  palaces — servants 
in  livery !"  In  no  case  was  the  gracious  but  re- 
served freedom  of  Greek  art  allowed  to  inter- 
fere with  "the  expression  of  insolent  prodigal- 
ity, of  vehement  and  sensuous  splendor  which 
the  Roman  empire  desired  to  express  in  all  its 
works  as  a  matter  of  public  policy."  Roman 
civilization  changed  the  beautiful  Greek  pil- 
lar into  the  sumptuous  Corinthian  order  and 
created  the  still  more  gorgeous  Composite. 
"These  Rome  established  as  the  official  stand- 
ards of  her  luxury,  and  with  them  she  over- 
awed the  barbarians  in  the  remotest  colonies  of 
her  empire."  What  chance  had  the  quiet 
beauty  of  the  Greek  line  in  such  a  civilization? 
It  appeared  but  it  was  like  a  "song  of  liberty 
sung  in  captivity." 

Even  a  slight  acquaintance  with  good  etch- 
ings shows  that  hurry  and  confusion  are  ex- 
pressed by  short  sharp  lines,  whereas,  quiet  and 
harmony  are  told  by  long  flowing  lines  much 
as  similar  emotions  in  music  are  expressed  by 
quick,  sharp  sounds,  or  by  the  long  drawn  cut 
quiver  of  the  bow  across  the  strings.  Even  the 
common  wall  papers  create  discord  or  harmony 
acccording  to  the  beauty  or  the  ugliness  of 
their  lines. 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  61 

Fascinating  and  delightful  as  is  the  study  of 
lines  and  their  influence,  not  only  upon  all  of  the 
other  arts  but,  also,  upon  all  of  the  industries, 
we  must  not  enter  into  it  here.  Let  us  concen- 
trate our  attention  upon  the  subject  matter  in 
hand,  inasmuch  as  architecture  is  the  highest 
and  at  the  same  time  the  most  potent  expression 
of  this  great  language  of  form.  For  the  lan- 
guage of  form  is  as  great  as  is  the  language  of 
music,  and  must  be  studied  with  the  same  intel- 
ligence and  devotion  if  its  subtle  charm  and  in- 
describable beauty  are  to  be  mastered. 

One  can  not  go  far  in  the  study  of  architec- 
ture without  soon  perceiving  that  different  ma- 
terials are  required  to  express  different  styles 
of  architecture,  as  in  music  different  kinds  of 
instruments  are  required  to  express  differing 
emotional  tones.  Indeed,  we  find  that  the  great 
master  builders  created  new  material  as  the 
great  musicians  have  devised  new  instruments. 
We  can  not  make  this  subject  clearer  than  by 
citing  once  more  from  Henry  Van  Brunt : 

Granite  (the  material  natural  to  Egypt 
when  the  nearest  mountain  ranges  supplied  the 
only  building  materials)  gives  naturally  build- 
ings where  the  beauty  and  nobility  depend  most 
upon  the  strong,  single  outlines,  rather  than 


62  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

details;  where  the  carvings  are  few  and  large. 

Sand  stone  and  Lime  stone  (so  much  used 
in  the  Mediaeval  France  and  England,  because 
they  are  the  natural  material  of  the  locality) 
allow  of  more  carving  and  moulding,  such  as 
can  be  seen  on  their  cathedral  doors  and  spires. 

Marble  (the  material  used  by  Greece  whose 
marble  quarries  are  the  best  in  the  world)  per- 
mits exquisite  carving  of  a  delicacy  and  re- 
finement impossible  to  rougher  materials. 

Onyx,  agate,  and  other  semi-precious  colored 
marbles,  (such  as  are  seen  upon  the  buildings 
of  Venice  and  Florence)  bring  naturally  the  art 
of  Mosaic  decoration  or  plain  surfaces  into 
prominence.  Carvings  and  mouldings  are  not 
needed  where  richness  of  color  gives  vent  to 
true  emotions. 

Terra  Cotta  (such  as  is  used  in  Northern 
Italy)  allows  full  play  to  the  moulding  genius 
of  such  artists  as  the  Delia  Robbia. 

Coarse  conglomerates  (where  no  more  staple 
materials  offer  themselves,  or  where  the  skill 
of  man  is  somewhat  limited)  is  used  by  such 
nations  as  the  all  conquering,  all  pervading 
Romans  and  later  on  by  the  Spanish  Explorers 
and  Conquerers  of  the  New  World.  These 
rough,  pebbly  surfaces  are  made  smooth  by 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  63 

plaster  and  thereby  can  be  decorated  by  beauti- 
ful mouldings,  and  suggestive  and  satisfying 
coloring. 

The  last  two  of  the  above  mentioned  ma- 
terials show  the  power  of  the  architect  to  create 
the  materials  needed  to  express  his  thought. 

While  this  subject  of  the  use  of  right  ma- 
terial is  under  consideration,  I  can  not  refrain 
re-emphasizing  it  by  quoting  once  more  from 
the  same  author.  He  says :  "It  has  been  dis- 
covered that  in  every  great  era  of  art,  material 
has  been  used  according  to  its  natural  capacity : 
by  the  constant  use  of  such  natural  capacities, 
the  arts  have  approached  perfection:  by  their 
abuse  they  have  inevitably  declined.  Thus  as 
regards  architecture  in  a  district  which  pro- 
duces granite  alone,  the  prevailing  style  would 
submit  to  certain  modifications  to  suit  the  con- 
ditions of  the  material;  the  mouldings  would 
be  few  and  large,  the  sculpture  broad  and  sim- 
ple, depending  rather  upon  outline,  than  upon 
detail  for  its  effect.  In  places  where  the  stone 
was  easily  worked,  the  mouldings  and  carvings 
would  be  more  frequent.  Where  fine  marbles 
were  available,  the  architecture  would  be  deli- 
cately detailed,  and  affect  a  quality  of  refine- 
ment impracticable  under  other  conditions. 


64  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

When  colored  marbles  abounded  the  wall  sur- 
faces would  be  veneered  with  them,  in  patterns, 
and  designs  in  Mosaic  would  become  frequent. 
Where  clay  only  prevailed,  there  would  arise  an 
architecture  distinctly  of  brick  and  terra  cotta. 
If  the  stone  of  a  district  was  coarse  and  friable, 
it  would  be  used  in  rough  walls,  covered  with  a 
finish  of  cement  or  plaster,  which  in  its  turn 
would  create  a  modification  of  style  priding  it- 
self upon  its  smoothness  of  surface,  its  decora- 
tions by  incisions  and  fine  moulding  and  ap- 
plied color." 

"Thus,  Egyptian  art  was,  in  some  of  its  most 
characteristic  expressions,  an  art  of  granite; 
the  mediaeval  arts  of  France  and  England  were 
mostly  arts  of  limestones  and  sandstones  of 
various  qualities ;  the  art  of  Greece  was  an  art 
of  fine  marble;  that  of  North  Italy  was  an  art 
of  baked  clay ;  that  of  Venice  and  Florence  was 
distinguished  for  its  inlay  of  semi-precious 
marble;  that  of  Rome,  as  her  monuments  were 
part  of  her  political  system,  and  were  erected 
all  over  the  Roman  World  as  invariable  types 
of  her  dominion,  was  an  art  of  coarse  masonry, 
in  whatever  material,  or  of  concrete  covered 
with  plaster  or  with  thin  veneers  of  marble. 
In  like  manner,  forms  executed  in  lead  were  dif- 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  65 

ferent  from  forms  executed  in  forged  iron. 
Forms  cast  in  moulds  were  different  from 
forms  forged  or  wrought  with  the  chisel.  Forms 
suggested  by  the  functions  and  capacity  of 
wood  were  quite  different  from  any  other." 

Thus  we  see  that  the  mind  of  man  makes 
plastic  the  materials  of  nature  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  materials  of  nature  restrict  the  form 
of  expression  on  the  other  hand,  but  never  the 
content  of  art.  The  soul  of  the  true  artist  will 
express  its  highest  in  whatever  it  is  compelled 
to  work. 

Such  is  the  record  of  the  past !  What  does 
the  architecture  of  today  tell  us  of  man's  spir- 
itual condition? 

The  crowded  city,  growing  more  and  more 
crowded  each  year,  is  undoubtedly  the  most 
distinctive  fact  in  the  civilization  of  the  pres- 
ent time.  We  may  regret  this  fact,  but  we  can 
not  deny  it;  or  we  may  proudly  rejoice  in  it, 
seeing  through  it  the  closer  coming  together  of 
mankind,  the  nearer  approach  to  a  practical  re- 
alization of  the  solidarity  of  the  race. 

"Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?"  may  be  asked 
when  wide  miles  of  space  intervene  between  rne 
and  that  brother.  But  when  his  ignorance  of 
the  laws  of  health  has  allowed  filth  to  accumu- 


66  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

late  at  his  back  door  until  a  breeding-bed  for 
disease  germs  has  been  established  and  we  know 
that  these  germs  will  float  in  at  our  window  not 
fifty  feet  away,  we  begin  to  understand  that 
we  are  his  keeper.  When  his  neglected  chil- 
dren, growing  up  amidst  squalor  and  vice  se- 
duce or  corrupt  our  idolized  and  carefully  pro- 
tected child,  in  anguish  of  heart  we  confess  that 
we  are  all  of  one  blood,  and  that  we  must  care 
for  humanity's  children,  as  for  our  own.  When 
our  brother's  hunger-crazed  brain  accepts  an- 
archy as  the  only  solution  of  his  wretchedness, 
and  our  lives  and  liberty  are  threatened  thereby, 
we  no  longer  ask  the  question,  we  know  that 
we  are  his  keeper. 

Therefore,  the  crowded  city,  to  the  earnest, 
thinking  mind  is  not  altogether  a  sign  of  de- 
generacy. Disagreeable  as  it  may  be  to  the 
man  or  woman  of  culture  to  live  amidst  jarring 
sounds  and  jostling  crowds,  it  is  nevertheless  a 
step  forward  in  the  race-consciousness  of  its 
high  destiny.  The  country  boys  and  girls  who 
eagerly  leave  their  quiet  comfortable  country 
homes  to  rush  into  our  great  cities,  and  perhaps 
be  crushed  and  trampled  under  foot  by  the  un- 
heeding crowd,  feel  this  new  stage  of  the  life, 
of  the  race  even  when  they  can  not  explain  it. 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  67 

Here  all  humanity  offers  its  good  and  its  evil 
to  them.  More  of  these  country  town  boys  and 
girls  come  to  the  cities  for  the  added  life  they 
find  there,  than  for  the  added  wages  which  they 
hope  to  earn. 

The  time  comes  when  the  higher  types  of 
humanity,  who  have  been  trained  by  this  city 
life,  return  to  the  country,  where  their  knowl- 
edge of  improved  machinery  and  scientific  ag- 
riculture, enables  them  to  live  as  masters  rather 
than  as  slaves  to  the  soil.  Their  artistic  train- 
ing and  literary  culture  furnishes  the  needed 
stimulation  to  heart  and  brain,  such  as  is  now 
sought  by  uncultured  minds  in  commingling 
with  the  crowd.  Rapid  transit,  rural  delivery, 
long  distance  telephones,  and  similar  inventions 
of  today,  all  predict  the  increase  of  this  restora- 
tion of  man  to  his  normal  condition,  and  hence 
to  his  best  environing  influences.  But  for  the 
present — and  for  years  to  come — the  large  ma- 
jority of  people  will  congregate  in  our  large 
cities.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  the  growing 
urban  civilization. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  our  Architecture,  and  see 
if  it  is  writing  the  true  record  of  our  spiritual 
condition.  Is  the  new  form  of  architecture 
that  is  coming  into  existence  today  a  genuine 


68  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

expression  of  the  new  meaning  we  are  trying 
to  give  to  life  ?  It  must  inevitably  be  so.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise?  The  mind  of  man  is  a 
unit,  and  the  mental  state  that  would  call  for  a 
life  in  a  crowded  city  would  necessarily  demand 
an  art  expression  in  the  form-world  that  would 
correspond  to  the  crowd-seeking  tendency  of 
this  age.  We  are  no  longer  Asiatic,  vaguely 
dreaming  of  a  sensationless  existence  in  which 
all  individuality  is  lost ;  nor  are  we  Greeks ;  re- 
joicing in  this  life  merely;  nor  are  we  mediaeval 
ascetics,  striving  and  praying  to  be  released 
from  this  body.  We  are  a  new  people  with  a 
new  idea.  We  are  the  commingling  of  many 
peoples,  yet  all  united  under  the  thought,  not 
only  of  the  dignity  and  freedom  of  each,  but 
of  the  solidarity  of  the  race,  not  as  the  Greeks 
felt  it,  but  with  the  added  consciousness  of  "the 
social  whole."  What  then  may  we  expect  to 
be  the  silent  revelation  of  our  civilization  in 
dumb  stone  and  marble? 

As  we  turn  to  our  architecture  we  see  this 
new  spirit  of  the  time  writing  a  new  record,  we 
find  "the  great  stone  giant,"  which  in  the  cathe- 
drals of  Europe  lay  prostrate  upon  the  earth 
with  only  his  arms  and  fingers  stretched  up- 
ward as  if  crying  for  help,  now  standing  erect 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  69 

upon  his  feet.  Having  cast  off  the  heavy  gar- 
ment of  stone,  he  rises  fifteen,  twenty  stories 
high  in  his  new  and  lighter  clothing  of  terra 
cotta  and  brick.  "He  no  longer  points  upward," 
says  Dr.  Snider  in  a  lecture  on  American  ar- 
chitecture, "but  stands  erect  and  looks  outward. 
He  can  bend  before  the  gale,  yet  withstands  the 
mightiest  storm" — true  symbol  of  the  Dem- 
ocracy that  has  created  him ! 

If  art  is  the  expression  of  a  nation's  highest 
ideals  in  sensuous  form,  can  we  not  read  the 
new  thought  of  the  race  in  this  sudden  change 
in  all  that  has  hitherto  been  accepted  as  the 
standard  of  beauty  in  buildings  ?  America 
today  calls  across  the  waters  of  the  deep :  "We 
are  all  one  common  brotherhood.  There  shall 
be  no  more  class  or  caste !  The  humble  shall  be 
exalted  and  the  lowly  shall  be  lifted  up!  The 
rail-splitter  shall  sit  in  the  president's  chair, 
and  the  Vermont  village  boy  shall  become  the 
hero  of  Manila." 

And  the  great  invisible  Spirit-of-the-times 
writes  the  joyful  message  in  the  strong,  light, 
airy  sky-scraper  of  today,  using  the  very  dust 
of  the  earth  for  its  storm-defying  coat !  Have 
you  ever  thought  of  how  significant  the  fact  is 
that  man  had  first  to  conquer  fire,  and  then  by 


70  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

means  of  fire  has  been  able  to  make  of  mud  a 
fireproof  material  ?  Is  not  this  "negative  negat- 
ing itself"  in  very  truth  before  our  eyes? 

But  to  return  to  our  subject.  The  older  civ- 
ilizations are  slowly  answering  the  call  of 
America.  It  is  not  man's  greed  alone  that  has 
brought  into  existence  our  twenty  story  build- 
ings. It  is  the  crowded  condition  of  our  cities 
that  has  created  them.  They  would  have  been 
morally  as  well  as  materially  impossible  in  an 
earlier  stage  of  the  world's  history.  Their 
frame-work  is  pig-iron,  plus  nineteenth  century 
intelligence,  and  their  covering  of  terra  cotta 
is  mud  mixed  with  nineteenth  century  brains. 
But  is  it  not  also  true  that  the  best  business 
locations,  the  best  sanitary  conditions,  the  best 
electric  appliances,  and  the  best  elevator  services 
are  now  demanded  by  the  multitude  as  well  as 
by  the  few?  And  our  giant  sky-scrapers  are 
the  answer  to  that  demand.  They  have  been 
most  truly  called  "the  statue  of  the  crowd," 
inasmuch  as  they  most  expressively  represent  in 
line  and  contour  the  inner  meaning  of  the 
crowd. 

The  question  now  is,  "What  shall  we  do  with 
our  crowd?"  It  has  projected  its  inmost  na- 
ture upon  our  vision.  We  can  no  longer  mis- 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  71 

understand  it  or  its  needs.  Here  it  stands  self- 
assertive,  shutting  out  our  light  and  sunshine, 
arrogant,  lean  and  hungry,  oftentimes  ugly 
and  offensive  to  the  artistic  eye — and  yet  with 
a  certain,  simple  dignity  and  an  unmistakable 
aspiration  which  demand  our  respect. 

No  prophet  of  old  ever  called  more  eloquent- 
ly to  his  people  to  return  to  the  worship  of  the 
God  of  Righteousness  than  do  these  tall,  gaunt 
giants  of  dumb  stone  and  marble.  This  is  one 
of  the  messages  of  Architecture,  oftentimes  not 
fully  realized  until  the  message  has  ceased  to  be 
needed,  and  the  terrible  consequences  of  sin 
have  come,  or  the  glorious  opportunities  of 
awakening  aspiration  have  gone. 

What  shall  we  do  with  this  crowd,  bereft  of 
reverence  which  the  silence  and  solitude  of 
country  life  brings,  drifting  away  from  the 
self-respect  which  honest  labor  implants  in  the 
human  breast,  and  slowly  but  surely  losing  the 
quiet  dignity  which  comes  from  simplicity  of 
life?  What  shall  we  do  with  this  ever  present 
crowd  which  has  already  shown  itself  strong 
enough  to  reflect  itself  in  Art?  It  has  reached 
an  art  era,  and  Art  itself  must  be  our  answer. 
A  new  beauty  must  be  forthcoming,  a  beauty 
that  shall  be  so  appealing,  so  uplifting,  so  soul- 


72  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

satisfying,  that  it  compels  a  forgetting  of  small 
selfish  aims,  and  unites  and  harmonizes  uncon- 
sciously the  jarring  and  conflicting  elements  of 
mankind.  Does  this  seem  to  claim  too  much 
for  Art  ?  Watch  a  crowd  stirred  by  music ;  ob- 
serve closely  a  body  of  people  as  they  witness 
a  fine  drama;  or  study  an  audience  that  has 
been  thrilled  by  some  gifted  orator ;  you  will  no 
longer  question  the  transcending  power  of  Art. 
And  of  all  arts,  architecture  is  the  art  of  the 
crowd ;  as  has  already  been  said,  it  stands  silent 
and  suggestive  upon  the  public  highway  for  all 
the  people,  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 
If  we  doubt  the  power  of  form  and  line  to  up- 
lift or  debase,  let  us  turn  to  a  study  of  some  of 
the  buildings  about  us  today,  and  see  if  they  do 
not  individually  speak  a  language  of  their  own, 
and  yet  one  which  may  be  easily  mastered  by 
any  observer,  and  which  teaches  us  daily, 
whether  we  know  it  or  not,  to  be  shallow  and 
false,  or  noble  and  sincere. 

When  we  exclaim,  "What  a  barn-like  place! 
I  am  glad  I  do  not  have  to  live  there !"  or,  "This 
is  such  a  home-like  house,  I  like  it,"  what  do 
we  mean  ?  Is  it  not  that  the  former,  in  its  bad 
proportions,  is  assertive  and  commonplace,  un- 
true to  our  ideal  of  a  home  ?  Whereas  the  latter 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  73 

suggests  individuality,  privacy,  and  quiet  com- 
forts, three  essentials  of  a  true  home?  Who 
has  not  experienced  a  pleasurable  sensation, 
when  arriving  at  a  wayside  railway  station,  on 
observing  the  roof  to  be  the  preponderating  fea- 
ture of  the  building,  whose  chief  office  is  to 
shelter  people,  temporarily,  at  the  same  time 
giving  them  freedom  of  access  and  egress  ?  Had 
massive  walls  enclosed  the  station  they  would 
have  destroyed  the  real  meaning  of  the  build- 
ing. 

Could  anything  be  more  appropriate  to  the 
generous  sheltering  of  large  throngs  of  people 
than  the  beautiful  Union  Depot  at  St.  Louis? 
So  far  as  my  knowledge  extends,  it  is  the  ideal 
depot  of  the  world.  As  charming  as  is  every 
detail  of  this  handsome  building  we  should  not 
care  to  use  it  for  a  church,  an  art  gallery,  or 
even  an  assembly  hall.  Its  purpose  is  to  wel- 
come the  coming  and  speed  the  parting  guest 
with  grace  and  ease  and  dignity.  It  would  be 
an  untruth  in  architecture,  if  used  for  any  other 
purpose  and  this  untruthfulness  would  be  felt 
by  every  beholder  even  if  he  could  not  analyze 
the  cause  of  his  dissatisfaction. 

Again,  can  one  conceive  of  a  more  perfect 
packing-box  than  the  Marshall  Field  wholesale 


74  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

dry  goods  building  in  Chicago?  Here  are 
strength,  solidity,  compactness,  and  security  in 
every  line  of  this  building,  equally  as  beautiful 
as  the  St.  Louis  Union  Depot,  though  it  is  a 
wholly  different  form,  as  is  right,  for  a  wholly 
different  purpose. 

Who  has  not  felt  the  majesty  of  a  great  city's 
welcome  as  he  or  she  has  ascended  the  few 
marble  steps  that  lead  to  the  spacious  entrance 
of  a  fine  museum  or  art  gallery?  Recall  the 
feeling  that  you  were  entering  upon  a  grand 
festival  which  the  facade  of  the  Grand  Opera 
House  in  Paris  gave  to  you.  Did  it  not  tell  of 
a  nation  which  knew  the  value  of  recreation, 
without  forgetting  the  charm  that  courtesy 
lends?  Think  of  the  quiet  dignity  of  greeting 
which  the  English  people  give  to  the  world  by 
means  of  the  entrance  to  the  National  Gallery ; 
and  then  think  of  the  insignificant  little  green 
doors  through  which  a  Chicago  public  is  hustled 
off  of  the  sidewalk  into  the  Auditorium,  and 
you  will  realize  how  far  the  great  metropolis  of 
the  middle  west  is  from  a  right  comprehension 
of  Art  forms  worthy  of  so  great  a  community. 

On  the  other  hand,  you  who  have  stood  be- 
fore the  National  Library  at  Washington,  or 
walked  through  its  superb  interior,  know  the 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  75 

glow  of  satisfaction  that  has  stirred  within 
your  hearts  as  you  realized  how  great  must  be 
the  spirit  of  a  nation  which  would  choose  to 
make  so  fitting  a  casket  for  her  priceless  treas- 
ury of  thoughts.  Need  I  multiply  examples  to 
prove  that  we,  the  American  people,  are  slowly 
but  surely  learning  the  great  and  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  Architecture  and  its  powerful  influ- 
ence in  the  ennobling  of  a  nation?  When  the 
day  comes  in  which  we  read  its  full  significance 
we  will  surely  cease  to  disfigure  the  streets  of 
our  cities  and  make  coarse  and  commonplace 
our  towns  and  villages  with  disproportioned, 
ugly,  and  self  assertive  buildings.  As  the 
daily  accumulations  of  filth  are  now  made  away 
with,  as  a  matter  of  course,  so,  too,  some  day, 
when  the  language  of  form  is  understood,  in- 
harmonious and  false  architecture  will  be  for- 
bidden. 

Much  is  already  being  done  by  some  of  our 
leading  newspapers  and  magazines  in  offer- 
ing prizes  for  the  best  designs  of  simple  homes, 
school  houses,  civic  halls,  etc.,  and  also  the 
widespread  publication  of  the  more  artistic  of 
these  designs.  Such  enterprises  are  heralding 
the  approach  of  the  day  when  we  shall  cease 
to  admire  Greek  porticos  stuck  on  to  the  plain 


76  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

looking  American  house,  staring  helplessly  at 
us  "with  strange  alien  look."  Even  if  our  co- 
lonial forefathers  did  blunder  thus  in  their 
early  struggle  for  beauty,  why  need  we  repeat 
their  misapprehension  of  Greek  pillars  ?  At  one 
of  our  recent  National  Educational  Associa- 
tions where  the  largest  body  of  educators  in 
the  world  was  assembled,  a  resolution  was 
passed  as  follows : 

"We  believe  that  the  standards  for  school 
architecture  should  be  as  definite  as  the  stan- 
dards for  teaching.  The  law  should  fix  the  di- 
mensions and  all  other  requirements  of  school 
buildings  as  well  as  the  size  and  character  of 
school  grounds." 

Still  more  is  being  done  by  our  great  rail- 
roads. They  are  doing  architecturally  for  the 
present  day  what  the  great  cathedrals  did  for 
the  Middle  Ages,  by  planting  beautiful  build- 
ings in  the  midst  of  our  Western  towns  and 
villages,  thereby  teaching  the  people  at  large  to 
admire  solidity,  fitness  of  form,  significance  of 
line  and  harmony  of  color,  as  much  as  they  do 
with  promptness  and  business  enterprise.  One 
of  the  suggestive  lessons  of  the  World's  Fair 
at  Chicago  was  that  of  a  smoke  stack  trans- 
formed into  a  tall  and  stately  tower  which 


Dumb  Stone  and  Marble.  77 

added  dignity  to  the  building  to  which  it  be- 
longed, as  well  as  beauty  to  the  landscape. 

This  is  an  age  of  utility  but  we  are  fast  learn- 
ing that  the  useful  may  be  made  beautiful  also, 
and  our  land  may  in  time  become  a  land  of 
worship  as  well  as  a  land  of  work.  The  pres- 
ent effort  to  make  our  national  capital  the  most 
beautiful  city  in  the  world  is  but  the  foreshad- 
owing of  the  cities  of  the  future,  after  we  have 
learned  the  great  value  o*f  beauty.  Our  fre- 
quent expositions  are  doing  far  more  than  dis- 
playing the  wealth  and  resources  of  our  modern 
civilization.  They  are  visions  of  the  possibili- 
ties of  beauty  and  harmony  and  joy  that  may 
be  expressed  even  where  the  vast  crowd  jostles 
and  pushes.  They  are  as  yet  the  dreams  of 
artists  but  will  some  day  become  glorious  reali- 
ties, the  investments  of  patriotic  citizens  in  that 
which  is  more  precious  than  gold. 

If  you  are  in  prophetic  mood  rejoice  with 
every  thoughtful  lover  of  mankind,  at  the  dawn- 
ing evidence  of  another  era  of  a  true  apprecia- 
tion of  Art  and  its  great  mission  to  mankind. 
If  you  are  doubtful,  .turn  your  thoughts  once 
more  to  the  "Fair  White  City"  that  stood  for 
a  moment,  as  it  were,  on  the  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan, — coming  and  going  like  a  heavenly 


78  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

vision  of  the  cities  yet-to-be,  and  will  you 
realize  the  greatness  and  significance  of  the 
language  of  form? 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  COLOR. 

Of  all  the  silent  teachers  that  influence  us 
from  our  entrance  into  this  world  to  our  going 
out  of  it,  color  is  perhaps  the  most  subtle  and 
the  most  mysterious.  It  is  difficult  to  realize 
how  large  a  part  it  plays  in  man's  emotional 
life. 

"Of  all  of  God's  gifts  to  the  sight  of  man, 
color  is  the  holiest,  the  most  divine,  the  most 
solemn,"  said  John  Ruskin.  Does  not  this 
solemn,  sublime,  and  beautiful  teacher  of  the  in- 
exhaustible love  of  the  Creator  for  his  world, 
stand  too  often  unheeded?  The  pettiness  of 
our  lives  causes  our  souls  to  cry  out  for  more 
strength,  more  courage  and  more  faith  in  the 
higher  life;  and  Color,  the  handmaiden  of  the 
Lord,  whispers  to  the  tired  spirit,  "Look  up 
and  see  the  Glory  of  the  Lord."  "Look  out 
and  behold  His  Wisdom."  "Look  down  and 
discover  His  tender  care." 

And  yet,  wonderful  as  is  the  infinite  variety 
which  color  presents,  the  average  human  eye  is 
dull  to  much  of  its  marvelous  beauty.  Cease- 
79 


80  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

less  as  are  the  changing  emotions  which  its 
lights  and  shadows  awaken,  the  average  human 
life  is  poor  and  empty,  although  surrounded  on 
every  hand  by  these  inestimable  riches!  I  call 
to  mind  a  striking  illustration  of  the  truth  of 
this  statement. 

While  living  among  the  foot  hills  of  South- 
ern California,  I  frequently  had  to  ask  the  favor 
of  a  ride  to  town  in  some  one  of  my  neighbors' 
vehicles.  One  morning,  I  found  myself  seated 
in  a  hay  cart  beside  an  undeveloped  country 
youth  of  nineteen  who  did  the  chores  on  a 
neighboring  ranch,  and  who  having  lived  all  his 
life  among  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains,  was 
an  expert  driver  on  mountain  roads.  Our  con- 
versation dragged  a  little  and  by  way  of  renew- 
ing it,  I  said,  "It  was  a  beautiful  sunset  we  had 
last  night,  wasn't  it?"  "I  dun'  know,"  was  his 
laconic  answer.  "Did  you  not  notice  it?"  I 
asked.  "The  sky  was  all  crimson  with  masses 
of  purple  and  gold  and  white  clouds  floating1 
over  it.  The  coloring  was  so  vivid  that  for  a 
time  the  foot  hills  took  on  the  same  color."  "Is 
that  so?"  replied  he,  looking  up  with  an  ex- 
pression of  real  interest.  "I  don't  know  as  I 
ever  saw  a  sunset.  I  al'ays  fodder  the  stock 
about  that  time."  "Do  you  really  mean,"  said 


The  Influence  of  Color.  81 

I,  "that  you  never  stop  to  look  at  the  marvelous 
sunsets  we  have  in  these  mountains?"  "No," 
he  answered  laughing  a  little  at  my  enthusiasm, 
"I  don't  know  as  I  ever  did;  leastwise  I  can't 
recollect  ever  seeing  one."  "Won't  you  prom- 
ise," said  I,  "that  tomorrow  night  you  will  look 
at  the  western  sky  at  about  seven  o'clock."  He 
consented  and  we  jogged  on  into  town,  I  re- 
volving in  my  mind  how  it  was  possible  for 
human  consciousness  to  be  so  dormant  as  not 
to  receive  sensations  made  by  the  resplendent 
coloring  that  each  sunrise  and  sunset  spread 
abroad  over  the  clear  California  sky  in  this 
mountain  district.  The  next  evening,  it  so 
chanced  that  my  companion  and  I  were  return- 
ing from  our  daily  tramp  just  as  again  the  gor- 
geous panorama  of  beauty  was  once  more  trail- 
ing across  the  western  horizon.  By  way  of 
shortening  our  trip  we  crossed  the  ranch  where 
the  youth  lived.  As  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
barn  yard  a  picture,  which  I  shall  never  forget, 
appeared  before  us.  The  lad  had  evidently  been 
out  hunting  and  on  entering  the  yard  had  re- 
called the  promise  made  to  me  the  day  before, 
and  had  looked  up  to  the  sunset  sky.  There  he 
stood  transfixed,  resting  on  his  gun,  a  dead  rab- 
bit hanging  forgotten  in  his  other  hand,  his 


82  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

lower  jaw  dropped  in  astonishment  and  his 
wide-open  eyes  staring  at  an  amazing  vision  of 
green  and  pink  and  bronze  and  gold.  The  ex- 
pression on  his  face  was  indescribable.  It  was 
evidently  his  first  sunset,  and  yet  for  nineteen 
years  he  had  lived,  where  each  morning  and 
evening  had  been  performed  a  miracle  of  beau- 
ty with  a  radiance  and  glory  found  in  but  few 
other  spots  on  earth. 

Nor  is  this  lack  of  appreciation  of  the  beau- 
tiful coloring  of  nature  confined  to  the  ignorant 
and  uneducated  classes.  I  took  with  me  to  the 
country  one  summer  for  a  short  vacation,  a 
bright  and  intelligent  young  girl.  She  was 
sensible,  had  the  average  education,  and  was 
unusually  attractive.  She  was  a  good  con- 
versationalist, had  taught  school  several  years, 
and  was  in  many  respects,  far  above  the  com- 
monplace young  woman.  Much  to  my  aston- 
ishment, I  found  that  she  had  never  taken  a 
walk  before  sunrise  and  therefore  knew  nothing 
of  the  silent  mysterious  beauty  which  precedes 
the  birth  of  a  summer  morning.  She  was  wild 
with  delight  over  the  long  shadows  on  the 
grass,  and  the  straight  yellow  rays  sent  forth 
by  the  upper  rim  of  the  coming  sun.  A  tall 
row  of  holly-hocks  that  glittered  like  trans- 


The  Influence  of  Color.  83 

parent  gems  as  the  early  sunbeams  struck 
through  their  pink  and  crimson  petals  were  as 
new  to  her  as  to  a  child.  She  had  never  watched 
a  sunset  across  a  body  of  water  and  so  knew 
naught  of  the  thrill  that  comes  as  the  earth 
catches  the  glory  of  the  heavens  and  the  two 
become  one  in  a  harmony  that  fills  and  exalts 
the  beholder,  much  as  great  music  does  the  at- 
tentive listener.  She  had  never  seen  the  mir- 
acle in  which  the  sunlight  transforms  an  ordi- 
nary chestnut  tree  into  an  enchanted  tree,  each 
leaf  of  which  is  outlined  with  glittering  gold. 
In  fact,  she  did  not  know  a  chestnut  tree  from 
an  elm,  and  listened  with  wonder  to  the  story 
of  the  rose  and  carmine,  the  russet  and  buff 
blossoms  with  silken  and  velvet  texture  that 
adorn  the  oak  and  hickory  each  spring.  And 
her  pleasure  was  almost  childish  when  she 
learned  that  the  bark,  twig,  leaf  and  blossom 
of  a  tree  all  harmonized  in  color,  and  told 
of  the  same  characteristics  as  did  its  shape 
and  branching,  its  roots  and  leaf-veins.  Day 
after  day,  her  evident  blindness  to  the  most  ap- 
parent beauties  of  nature  became  more  and  more 
apparent,  until  at  last  I  exclaimed,  "Where 
were  you  brought  up  ?  What  did  you  do  as  a 
child?"  "I  lived,"  she  replied,  "in  a  country 


84  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

town  all  through  my  childhood,  but  I  was  a 
sidewalk  child!  I  can  explain  it  in  no  other 
way!" 

I  liked  her  frankness  and  the  term  she  had 
coined,  "sidewalk  child."  It  exactly  describes 
hundreds  of  children  who  may  be  seen  any  day 
in  our  great  cities,  straggling  listlessly  along 
the  streets,  or  worse  still,  if  they  chance  to  be- 
long to  the  so-called  better  class,  being  led  un- 
willingly along  by  some  dull  faced  nursery 
maid.  Even  in  our  smaller  towns  I  have  heard 
the  thoughtless  mother  give  a  parting  injunc- 
tion to  her  little  daughter  as  she  opened  the 
door  for  her,  "Now,  take  care  of  your  dress; 
don't  get  off  the  sidewalk  and  don't  play  with 
anything  that  will  soil  your  hands!"  Such  a 
command — .when  all  God's  world  was  inviting 
the  child  to  come  and  be  its  companion  and 
learn  of  its  secrets  and  revel  in  its  beauty ! 

Aside  from  individual  instances,  however,  if 
we  study  the  development  of  the  race,  we  find 
the  same  thing.  The  mere  fact  that  one  is  sur- 
rounded by  charming  scenery  is  not  enough. 
For  Nature  unaided  does  not  tell  her  message 
to  the  beholder.  Spirit  must  speak  to  spirit. 
The  spiritual  nature  of  man  must  be  awakened 
before  the  spirit  in  nature  can  give  its  inner 


The  Influence  of  Color.  85 

message  through  color.  We  have  but  to  look 
at  the  dull  almost  animal  life  of  the  Dahomey 
negroes,  or  to  study  the  stolid  squalor  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Indians  to  know  this  to  be  a 
fact.  Even  the  Swiss  peasant  leads  a  stultified 
life,  surrounded  by  the  sublimest  aspects  of  Na- 
ture. To  truly  learn  the  rich  lessons  that  color 
has  to  teach,  the  inner  eye  of  the  spirit  must  be 
trained  to  see  in  the  marvel  of  the  dawn  and 
the  splendor  of  the  sunset  the  greatness  of  the 
Almighty — to  feel  the  mystery  of  Life  in  the 
first  faint  flush  of  the  bare  branches  of  the  trees 
in  early  spring,  to  hear  the  voice  of  God  as  He 
calls  forth  the  quiet  green  grass  to  cover  the 
brown  hill-tops,  to  read  in  the  thick  darkness  of 
the  storm  His  power,  and  to  join  in  the  anthem 
of  His  praise  which  the  shining  stars  are  sing- 
ing in  their  ceaseless  whirl  through  space.  In 
order  to  learn  of  this  great  silent  teacher,  the 
child  must  be  led  by  one  who  has  himself  or  her- 
self learned  to  look  with  answering  love 
through  color  up  to  the  Divine  Love  of  which 
color  speaks.  In  this  way  does  one  gain  not 
only  keen  pleasure  and  pure  unsullied  delight, 
but  also  power  to  express  the  experiences  and 
visions  of  the  inner  life  through  color. 

I  chanced  one  summer  afternoon  to  take  a 


86  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

long  drive  with  a  friend  through  a  beautiful 
rural  district  just  after  a  thunderstorm  had 
cleared  the  air  and  washed  the  trees  and  grass 
of  every  particle  of  dust.  As  we  drove  along 
we  met  a  prominent  clergyman  who  was  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  my  hostess.  He  stated  that  he 
was  going  nowhere  in  particular  but  was  merely 
enjoying  the  fine  air,  and  therefore  as  he  was 
a  charming  conversationalist,  she  invited  him 
to  join  us  in  our  drive.  He  accepted  the  invi- 
tation and  we  were  soon  in  an  animated  dis- 
cussion over  a  new  book  which  we  had  all  three 
read.  Just  about  this  time,  the  low  cumulus 
clouds  that  had  been  scattered  about  in  huge 
fragments  over  the  blue  sky,  drifting  toward 
the  western  horizon  massed  themselves  in  a 
vast  mountain  range  which  was  soft  gray  at  the 
base,  but  a  luminous  and  glistening  white  at  the 
summit.  Soon  the  setting  sun  began  his  magic 
work  upon  the  clouds,  changing  them  into 
tones  of  the  most  exquisite  violet  that  tenderly 
melted  into  crimson,  which  looked  like  noth- 
ing earthly  unless  one  could  conceive  of  great 
rubies  miles  in  dimensions.  Again  a  stray  sun- 
beam would  catch  a  smaller  drift  of  cloud 
gleaming  in  silvery  whiteness  and  gild  the  up- 
per edge  of  it  with  shining  gold  and  then  flush 


The  Influence  of  Color.  87 

its  lower  half  with  a  soft  tint  shell-pink.  All 
this  and  a  score  of  other  equally  marvelously 
beautiful  transformations  were  taking  place 
against  a  background  of  tender  opalescent  col- 
ors, toning  from  blue  through  green  into  yel- 
low, and  ending  in  a  glow  of  orange  near  the 
horizon  such  as  can  be  seen  nowhere  else,  save 
in  the  sky  at  sunset. 

Once  or  twice  I  interrupted  the  dissertation 
of  our  clerical  friend  to  call  his  attention  to 
the  wonderful  panorama  of  color  that  was  pass- 
ing before  us.  He  politely  stopped,  looked  at 
the  sky  for  a  moment,  and  then  continued  his 
talk  at  the  exact  point  at  which  it  had  been  in- 
terrupted. Soon  the  earth  began  to  respond  to 
the  silent  color-song  of  the  heavens,  the  hill- 
tops flushed  red,  the  foliage  of  the  trees  changed 
quietly  into  bronze  and  gold,  their  trunks 
turned  to  warm  red  browns,  a  small  body  of 
water  near  by  reflected  the  whole  gorgeous 
scene  in  a  miniature  picture  upon  its  placid  sur- 
face. One  or  two  brilliant  stars  appeared  in  the 
green  of  the  sky,  and  the  soft  hush  of  the  after 
glow  began  to  melt  the  colors  of  the  clouds  into 
new  and  more  exquisite  hues.  All  at  once  I 
became  aware  of  the  fact  that  I  was  being  ad- 
dressed and  I  heard  the  voice  of  my  hostess  say- 


88  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ing,  "I  fear  you  are  not  interested  in  our  con- 
versation; Dr.  has  asked  you  a  question 

which  you  do  not  answer."  "I  beg  your  par- 
don," I  replied,  "but  this  sunset  had  carried  me 
out  of  the  body,  as  it  were,  and  I  had  forgotten 
where  I  was."  The  clergyman  laughed,  looked 
up  at  the  sky  and  said,  "It  is  a  pretty  sunset, 
isn't  it?"  He  then  repeated  his  question  which 
was  to  ask  my  opinion  of  a  new  theory  concern- 
ing the  elevation  of  the  masses  which  had  re- 
cently been  set  forth  by  one  of  our  socialistic 
leaders. 

The  next  morning  was  Sunday  and  my  host- 
ess and  I  went  to  the  village  church  at  which 
her  clerical  friend  was  to  preach  that  day.  It 
was  the  custom  of  the  church  to  hold  an  annual 
celebration  called  "flower  day,"  and  this  par- 
ticular Sunday  chanced  to  be  the  anniversary 
of  the  day.  Our  clergyman  had  been  asked  to 
come  out  from  the  city  and  give  a  sermon  on 
some  nature  subject.  The  church  was  taste- 
fully decorated  with  vines  and  flowers  and  the 
hymns  were  well  selected.  Even  the  Scriptural 
reading  had  been  wisely  planned,  beginning 
with  those  wonderful  words  from  the  Nine- 
teenth Psalm,  "The  heavens  declare  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  firmament  showeth  His 


The  Influence  of  Color.  89 

handiwork."  When  the  time  came  for  the  ser- 
mon, however,  the  clergyman,  a  finished  scholar 
and  a  learned  divine,  rose  somewhat  hesitating- 
ly and  coming  forward,  laid  two  books  upon 
the  reading  desk  before  him.  Then  looking 
around  the  audience  room,  as  if  seeking  for 
help,  he  said,  "I  have  been  asked  to  speak  to 
you  on  the  subject  of  nature  this  morning;  as 
I  could  find  little  or  nothing  to  say  on  that  sub- 
ject which  would  be  of  interest  to  you,  I  have 
brought  with  me  a  volume  of  Ruskin  and  one 
of  Thoreau,  from  which  with  your  permission, 
I  will  read."  Then  followed  some  fine,  but 
already  well  known  passages  from  each  of  these 
authors.  There  was  no  word  about  the  glory 
of  sunset  of  the  night  before.  There  was  no 
hint  or  suggestion  of  the  inexhaustible  wealth 
of  beauty  by  which  these  people  were  sur- 
rounded. There  was  no  allusion  to  the  great 
color  symphonies  which  were  played  each  even- 
ing like  beautiful  vesper  hymns  in  Nature's  vast 
cathedral.  There  was  no  calling  of  their  hearts 
to  worship  the  Creator  who  was  daily  manifest- 
ing His  love  before  their  eyes.  There  had  been 
no  indescribable  thrill  of  joy  awakened  in  his 
own  soul,  therefore  he  could  not  arouse  their 
dormant  lives,  nor  strengthen  their  faith,  nor 


90  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

give  aspiration  to  their  discouraged  spirits.  He 
had  given  only  a  commonplace  discourse; 
whereas  he  might  have  fed  them  with  the  bread 
of  heaven,  and  have  shown  them  that  God  was 
still  speaking  to  His  people,  still  performing 
miracles  before  their  eyes.  All  because  he  had 
never  been  trained  to  see  the  beauty  and  feel 
the  joy  and  inspiration  which  color  can  give. 
He  had  lost  a  great  opportunity ! 

Contrast  this  lack  of  response  to  the  appeal 
of  the  world  of  color  with  that  exquisite  feel- 
ing for  color  manifested  by  such  writers  as 
Thomas  Starr  King.  Take  but  one  of  many  of 
his  sympathetic  descriptions  of  scenes  among 
the  White  Mountains : 

"The  inexperienced  eye  has  no  conception  of 
the  affluent  delight  that  is  kindled  by  the  opu- 
lence of  pure  and  tender  colors  on  the  moun- 
tains. A  ramble  by  the  banks  of  the  Saco  in 
North  Conway,  or  along  the  Androscoggin  be- 
low Gorham,  will  often  yield  from  this  cause 
what  we  may  soberly  call  rapture  of  vision.  A 
great  many  persons,  in  looking  around  from 
Artist's  Hill,  would  say  at  first  that  green  and 
blue  and  white  and  gray,  in  the  foliage,  the 
grass,  the  sky,  the  clouds  and  the  mountains, 
were  the  only  colors  to  be  noticed,  and  these  in 


The  Influence  of  Color.  91 

wide,  severely  contrasted  masses.  We  should 
go  entirely  beyond  their  appreciation  in  speak- 
ing of  the  light  brown  and  olive  plateaus  rising 
from  the  wide  flats  of  meadow  green,  the  richer 
and  more  subtle  hues  on  the  darker  belt  of  lower 
hills,  the  sheeny  spaces  of  pure  sunshine  upon 
smooth  slopes  or  level  sward,  the  glimmer  of 
pearly  radiance  upon  pools  of  aerial  sapphire 
brought  from  the  distant  mountains  in  the 
wandering  Saco,  the  blue  and  white  mistiness 
from  clouds  and  distant  air  gleaming  in  the 
chasms  of  brooks  fresh  from  the  cool  top  of 
Kiarsarge,  and  the  gold  or  silver  glances  of 
light  upon  knolls  or  smooth  boulders  scattered 
here  and  there  upon  the  irregular  and  tawny 
ground,  and  upon  the  house-roofs  beyond.  Yet 
let  a  man  who  thinks  these  particulars  are  im- 
aginary hold  his  head  down,  and  thus  reverse 
his  eyes,  and  then  say  whether  the  delicacy  and 
variety  of  hues  are  exaggerated  in  such  a  state- 
ment. There  are  those  who  have  such  percep- 
tion of  colors  with  their  eyes  upright.  And 
they  will  know  that  the  tints  just  noted  are  only 
hints  of  a  great  color-symphony  to  be  wrought 
out  upon  the  wide  landscape.  They  know  how 
the  rich  or  sombre  passages  of  shade,  and  the 
olive  strips  and  slaty  breadths  of  darkness  will 


92  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

be  transformed  in  some  glorious  afternoon, 
when  the  landscape  assumes  its  full  pomp,  into 
masses  of  more  ethereal  gloom,  and  made  mag- 
nificent by  the  intermixture  of  gorgeous  tones 
of  purple,  emeralds  and  russets  with  cloudy 
azure  and  subtle  gray  along  the  second  part  of 
the  mountain  outworks.  They  know  how  those 
flecks  of  pearl  and  sapphire  upon  the  meadow 
will  mingle  and  spread  with  shifting  azure  and 
amethyst  upon  the  lower  part  of  the  great 
mountains ;  and  how  the  spaces  of  sunshine,  the 
blue  and  white  mistiness,  and  the  golden  and 
silver  glances  of  light,  will  assume  new  beauty 
and  larger  proportions  amid  the  gleaming  hues 
of  the  looming  azure  ridge,  the  waiving  gray 
and  purple  of  cloud-enwrapped  peak,  the  tender 
flashes  of  changeful  light  and  tint  in  sky  and 
cloud,  and  the  tremulous  violet  and  aerial  or- 
ange of  the  mysterious  ravines,  with  their  won- 
drous sloping  arras,  on  whose  striped  folds, 
inwrought  with  gold  and  silver  upon  pale  em- 
erald ground,  are,  one  might  think,  the  mys- 
tical signs  of  some  weird  powers  that  work 
from  within  the  earth." 

Or  read  John  Van  Dyke's  description  of  a 
scene  on  the  great  American  desert.  "The  rocks 
of  the  upper  peaks,"  says  he,  "and  those  that 


The  Influence  of  Color.  93 

make  the  upright  walls  of  mountains,  though 
small  in  body  of  color,  are  perhaps  more  varied 
in  hue  than  either  the  sands  or  the  vegetation, 
and  that  too,  without  primary  notes  as  in  the 
Grand  Canyon  of  the  Yellowstone.  The  reds 
are  always  salmon-colored,  terra  cotta,  or  In- 
dian red;  the  greens  are  olive-hued,  plum-col- 
ored, sage-green;  the  yellows  are  as  pallid  as 
the  leaves  of  yellow  roses.  Fresh  breaks  in 
the  wall  of  rock  may  show  brighter  colors 
that  have  not  yet  been  weather-worn,  or  they 
may  reveal  the  oxidation  of  various  minerals. 
Often  long  strata  and  beds,  and  even  whole 
mountain  tops  show  blue  and  green  with  cop- 
per, or  orange  with  iron,  or  purple  with  slates, 
or  white  with  quartz.  But  the  tones  soon  be- 
come subdued.  A  mountain  wall  may  be  dark 
red  within,  but  it  is  weather-stained  and  lichen- 
covered  without ;  long-reaching  shafts  of  gran- 
ite that  loom  upward  from  a  peak  may  be 
yellow  at  heart  but  they  are  silver-gray  on  the 
surface.  The  colors  have  undergone  years  of 
'toning  down'  until  they  blend  and  run  to- 
gether like  the  faded  tints  of  an  Eastern  rug. 
But  granted  the  quantity  and  the  quality  of 
local  colors  in  the  desert,  and  the  fact  still  re- 
mains that  the  air  is  the  medium  that  influences 


94  So  me  Silent  Teachers. 

if  it  does  not  radically  change  them  all.  The 
local  hue  of  a  sierra  may  be  gray,  dark  red; 
iron-hued,  or  lead-colored;  but  at  a  distance, 
seen  through  dust-laden  air,  it  may  appear  to- 
paz-yellow, sapphire-blue,  bright  lilac,  rose-red 
— yes,  fire-red.  During  the  heated  months  of 
summer  such  colors  are  not  exceptional.  They 
appear  almost  every  evening.  I  have  seen  at 
sunset,  looking  north  from  Sonora  some  twenty 
miles,  the  whole  tower-like  shaft  of  Baboquivari 
change  from  blue  to  topaz  and  from  topaz  to 
glowing  red  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour.  I 
do  not  mean  edgings  or  rims  or  spots  of  these 
colors  upon  the  peak,  but  the  whole  upper  half 
of  the  mountain  completely  changed  by  them. 
The  red  color  gave  the  peak  the  appearance  of 
hot  iron,  and  when  it  finally  died  out  the  dark 
dull  hue  that  came  after  was  like  that  of  a 
clouded  garnet. 

The  high  ranges  along  the  western  side  of 
Arizona,  and  buttes  and  tall  spires  in  the  Upper 
Basin  region,  all  show  these  warm  fire-colors 
under  heat  and  sunset  light,  and  often  in  the 
full  of  noon.  The  colored  air  in  conjunction 
with  light  is  always  responsible  for  the  hues. 
Even  when  you  are  close  up  to  the  mountains 
you  can  see  the  effect  of  the  air  in  small  ways. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  95 

There  are  edgings  of  bright  color  to  the  hill- 
ridges  and  the  peaks;  and  the  canyons,  where 
perhaps  a  stmshaft  streams  across  the  shadow, 
you  can  see  the  gold  or  fire-color  of  the  air  most 
distinctly.  Very  beautiful  are  these  golden 
sunshafts  shot  through  the  canyons.  And  the 
red  shafts  are  often  startling.  It  would  seem 
as  though  the  canyons  were  packed  thick  with 
yellow  or  red  haze.  And  so  in  reality  they 
are. 

There  is  one  marked  departure  from  the  uni- 
form warm  colors  of  the  desert  that  should  be 
mentioned  just  here.  It  is  the  clear  blue  seen  in 
the  shadows  of  western-lying  mountains  at  sun- 
set. The  colored  shadow  shows  only  when 
there  is  a  yellow  or  orange  hued  sunset,  and  it 
is  produced  by  the  yellow  of  the  sky  casting  its 
complementary  hue  (blue)  in  the  shadow.  At 
sea  a  ship  crossing  a  yellow  sunset  will  show  a 
marvelous  blue  in  her  sails  just  as  she  crosses 
the  line  of  the  sun,  and  the  desert  mountains  re- 
peat the  same  complementary  color  with  equal 
felicity  and  greater  variety.  It  is  not  of  long 
duration.  It  changes  as  the  sky  changes,  but 
maintains  always  the  complementary  blue. 

The  presence  of  the  complementary  color  in 
the  shadow  is  exceptional,  however.  The  shad- 


96  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ows  cast  by  such  objects  as  the  sahuaro  and  the 
palo  verde  are  apparently  quite  colorless;  and 
so,  too,  are  the  shadows  of  passing  clouds.  The 
colored  shadow  is  produced  by  reflection  from 
the  sky,  mixed  with  something  of  local  color  in 
the  background,  and  also  complementary  color. 
It  is  usually  blue  or  lilac-blue,  as  snow,  for  ex- 
ample, when  there  is  a  blue  sky  overhead ;  and 
lilac  when  shown  upon  sand  or  a  blue  stone 
road.  Perhaps  it  does  not  appear  often  on  the 
Mojave-Colorado  because  the  surfaces  are  too 
rough  and  broken  with  coarse  gravel  to  make 
good  reflectors  of  the  sky.  The  fault  is  not  in 
the  light  or  in  the  sky,  for  upon  the  fine  sands 
of  the  dunes,  and  upon  the  beds  of  fine  gypsum 
and  salt,  you  can  see  your  own  shadow  colored 
an  absolute  indigo;  and  often  upon  bowlders 
of  white  quartz  the  shadows  of  cholla  and 
grease  wood  are  cast  in  almost  cobalt  hues." 
— And  this  is  a  part  of  the  journey  across 
the  continent  that  is  considered  so  dreary  and 
uninteresting  to  most  people! 

Do  we  need  further  comment  to  make  us 
appreciate  how  much  pleasure  a  quick,  keen 
observation  of  color  gives  to  the  beholder? 
It  is  true  that  this  love  of  beauty  comes  some- 
times without  any  training,  handed  down,  as  it 


The  Influence  of  Color.  97 

were,  from  some  remote  ancestor  who  had  an 
artistic  soul. 

Mr.  Hamilton  Mabie  tells,  in  one  of  his 
charming  essays,  of  a  Scotch  Highlander  old 
and  worn  and  poor  in  this  world's  goods,  who 
was  in  the  habit  of  going  each  morning  a  little 
distance  from  his  cabin  and  standing  for  a  few 
moments  with  uncovered  head.  When  asked 
by  a  friend — who  one  day  came  upon  him  and 
who  waited  until  he  had  again  covered  his 
head  and  turned  his  eyes  away  from  the  hills — 
if  he  were  saying  his  prayers  ?  he  replied  with 
a  rare  smile,  "I  have  come  here  every  morning 
for  years  and  have  taken  off  my  bonnet  to  the 
beauty  of  the  world."  Could  we  rightly  call 
such  a  man  poor?  How  beautiful  that  Scotch 
world  of  his  was  Hamerton  has  told  us  in  "A 
Painter's  Camp,"  wherein  he  paints  with  word 
pictures  so  vivid  that  once  read  they  are  never 
forgotten.  Most  of  us,  however,  have  not  that 
remote  ancestor  who  has  left  us  a  legacy  of  in- 
herited artistic  sense.  Yet  there  are  but  few 
of  us,  who  are  color-blind;  and  a  feeling  for, 
and  enjoyment  of  color  can  be  cultivated  es- 
pecially if  the  education  begins  early  enough. 
We  all  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  develop 
the  right  kind  of  emotional  power  in  a  young 


98  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

child  without  paying  too  high  a  price  in 
waste  of  nervous  energy.  Here  a  love  of 
harmonious  and  beautiful  colors  comes  in  as  an 
aid ;  it  stirs  the  keenest  delight  and  awakens  the 
purest  emotional  enjoyment  without  making  the 
mind  morbid  or  sentimental.  If  a  child  is  so 
fortunate  as  to  live  in  close  contact  with  nature, 
and  has  free  access  to  the  out-of-door  world,  it 
is  an  easy  matter  to  call  his  attention  to  the 
various  aspects  of  the  sky,  to  teach  him  to  ob- 
serve the  exquisite  tones  of  gray  in  the  storm 
cloud,. and  the  deep  blue  of  a  summer  day,  as 
well  as  the  more  striking  beauties  of  the  sunset 
and  sunrise ;  the  stars  of  a  summer  evening  will 
appeal  to  his  young  soul  as  no  words  can  hope 
to  do.  It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  quiet  moon- 
light often  soothes  a  fretful  infant.  Children 
delight,  when  once  their  attention  has  been 
called  to  it,  to  watch  from  day  to  day,  the  yel- 
lowing of  the  branches  of  the  willow,  the  red- 
dening of  the  twigs  of  the  sumach,  the  lighter 
tones  of  gray  on  the  oak,  as  spring  approaches ; 
again  the  slowly  changing  hues  of  the  hill-sides, 
and  the  exquisite  tints  and  shades  of  the  catkins 
and  tender  young  leaves  are  a  never  ending 
joy.  Later  on,  the  still  richer  coloring  in  the 
leaves  and  blossoms,  as  the  summer  adds  its 


The  Influence  of  Color.  99 

beauty  to  "the  miracle  of  the  year,"  brings  an- 
other whole  world  of  delight.  Then  comes 
Autumn  with  its  gorgeous  panorama  of  golden 
grains,  of  purpling  grapes,  of  reds  and  russets, 
of  yellows  and  browns;  even  winter  is  rich  in 
harmonious  coloring.  Then  again  the  rain 
gives  one  tone,  the  sunshine  another,  and  twi- 
light still  another,  to  each  of  these  many  colors. 
Next  in  order  of  purity  of  color  comes  the 
study  of  the  plumage  of  birds,  the  wings  of  in- 
sects ;  then  the  hair  and  furs  of  animals,  and  last 
in  strength  of  colors,  but  not  least  in  beauty: 
nature,  offers  a  whole  orchestra  of  colors  in  her 
precious  stones  and  metals ;  and  in  minor  tones 
of  more  subdued,  though  no  less  beautiful  col- 
ors, her  marbles,  agates,  carnelians,  sandstones 
and  granites  repeat  the  wonderful  story  of  her 
exhaustless  supply  of  color  harmonies.*  Thus 
the  child  learns  to  enjoy  the  ascending  and  de- 
scending scale  of  colors  in  the  world  about  him. 

*  "The  colors  of  marble  are  mingled  for  us  just  as  if  on  a  pre- 
pared palette.  They  are  of  all  shades  and  hues  (except  bad  ones), 
some  being  united  and  even,  some  broken,  mixed,  and  interrupted, 
in  order  to  supply,  as  far  as  possible,  the  want  of  the  painter's 
power  of  breaking  and  mingling  the  color  with  the  brush.  But 
there  is  more  in  the  colors  than  this  delicacy  of  adaptation.  There 
is  history  in  them.  By  the  manner  in  which  they  are  arranged  in 
every  piece  of  marble,  they  record  the  means  by  which  that  marble 
has  been  produced,  and  the  successive  changes  through  which  it 
has  passed.  And  in  all  their  veins  and  zones,  and  flame-like  stain- 
ings,  or  broken  and  disconnected  lines,  they  write  various  legends, 
never  untrue,  of  the  former  political  state  of  the  mountain  king- 
dom to  which  they  belonged,  of  its  infirmities  and  fortitudes,  con- 
vulsions and  consolidations  from  the  beginning  of  time." — Ruskin. 


100  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

It  is  much  more  difficult  to  develop  a  love  of 
colof  in  a  town-imprisoned  child  than  in  a 
country-bred  child.  In  the  first  place,  he  is  not 
surrounded  by  as  much  pure  color,  as  all  the 
dyes,  paints,  and  other  pigments  which  he  sees 
in  the  fabrics  made  by  man  are  far  below  na- 
ture's hues  and  tones.  Even  the  best  of  them 
are  but  poor  imitations  of  her  tender  and  always 
harmonious  colorings.  Still  we  must  do  the 
best  we  can,  realizing  that  a  knowledge  of  even 
these  crude  manufactured  combinations  of  col- 
ors in  the  beginning  will  lead  the  child  later  on 
to  observe  color  in  nature  when  the  opportunity 
comes.* 

The  nursery  walls  should,  if  possible,  be  of 
some  warm  cheerful  tint.  It  is  far  more  im- 
portant that  these  ever-present,  silent  teachers, 
the  walls  of  the  room,  shall  speak  of  love  and 
harmony  and  cheerfulness  than  that  the  crib 
shall  be  made  of  brass,  or  the  pillows  be 
trimmed  with  lace,  or  the  baby  carriage  be 
lined  with  silk.  Of  course,  such  belongings  as 
rugs  and  curtains  and  the  like  should  harmon- 
ize with  the  walls.  There  are  now  so  many 

*  Kindergartners  learn  to  know  and  to  use  not  only  this  de- 
scending scale  of  purity  of  colors,  as  shown  in  nature,  but  also  to 
classify  color-combinations  under  the  five  general  heads  of:  domi- 
nant harmonies,  contrasted  harmonies,  complementary  harmonies, 
analogous  harmonies,  and  perfected  harmonies,  all  of  which  are 
found  in  nature. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  101 

cheap,  pretty  textile  fabrics  that  scarcely  any 
mother  is  excusable  for  surrounding  her  child 
with  ugly,  crude  or  dingy  colors. 

Froebel,  the  founder  of  the  kindergarten,  has 
shown  his  realization  of  the  value  of  color  in  the 
earliest  training  of  the  child  by  making  six 
rain-bow  colored  worsted  balls  his  first  play- 
thing for  the  infant.  This  is  but  the  starting 
point  for  the  regular  organized  training  in 
color  which  the  child  is  to  have  later  on  in  his 
sewing,  weaving,  paper  folding,  crayon  draw- 
ing, and  water-color  painting.  These  are  to  sup- 
plement the  color  lessons  which  he  gets  in  his 
excursions  to  the  fields  and  his  care  of  garden 
plants,  and  pet  animals,  together  with  other 
wisely  directed  observation  of  color  in  Nature's 
wonder-world.  Many  mothers  do  not  know 
the  amount  of  the  pleasure  and  growth  that 
comes  to  a  child  by  the  free  use  of  good  water- 
color  paints.  Cheap  paints  are  better  than 
none  at  all,  although  they  produce  muddy  and 
impure  colors.  A  child  of  three  or  four  years 
may  easily  be  taught  not  to  waste  his  colors  and 
may  be  given  only  three  cakes  of  pure  paint, 
carmine  (red),  gamboge  (yellow),  and  Prus- 
sian blue.  Out  of  these,  he  can  make  almost 
every  shade  and  tone  of  color,  and  will  soon 


102  Sonic  Silent  Teachers. 

revel  in  reproducing  the  colors  of  all  the  objects 
about  him,  thereby  training  his  eye  to  see  and 
his  heart  to  feel  color,  just  as  the  ear  of  a  child 
is  trained  to  rejoice  in  harmonious  sounds  by 
being  allowed  the  right  use  of  a  piano. 

One  cool  morning  a  soft  coal  fire  was  started 
in  my  grate;  a  little  four-year-old  friend  came 
into  the  room,  and  kneeling  in  front  of  the  fire 
began  to  warm  her  hands.  "Katherine,"  said  I, 
"what  color  do  you  see  in  the  flame?"  She 
looked  steadily  at  it  for  a  moment  and  then 
said,  "I  see  orange-color."  "I  see  yellow," 
said  I.  "Ah,  now  I  see  red,"  said  she;  "I  see 
black,"  added  I,  by  way  of  stimulating  her  to 
the  further  study  of  the  fire-colors.  "Yes," 
cried  she,  with  increasing  interest,  "the  black 
color  is  the  coal,  and  I  see  gray!"  pointing  in 
great  delight  to  the  ashes  below.  "Now,  I've 
a  puzzle  for  you,"  said  I,  "I  see  blue."  She 
looked  for  some  seconds  at  the  fire  and  then 
clapping  her  hands,  exclaimed,"!  see  it;  I  see  it! 
It  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  big  flame,  and  oh,  do 
you  see  that  lovely  lavender  on  the  end  of  the 
big  lump?"  Sure  enough,  the  freshly  burned 
ashes  were  lighted  by  the  blue  and  red  flames 
and  glowed  in  an  exquisite  lavender  which  had 
entirely  escaped  my  eye. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  103 

I  found  upon  inquiry  that  her  mother  knew 
little  of  the  child's  love  of  color,  nor  had  she 
any  lavender-colored  objects  about  her,  but  that 
the  little  one  had  been  given  in  one  of  the  exer- 
cises of  the  Kindergarten  some  rather  crude 
lavender  folding  paper,  yet  it  had  opened  her 
eyes  to  the  new  color  and  led  her  to  see  it  in  one 
of  its  most  exquisitely  beautiful  tones  in  na- 
ture. 

I  have  given  this  simple  anecdote,  one  of 
many  which  could  be  given,  to  show  how  work 
done  with  even  imperfect  color  materials  has 
its  rich  reward. 

The  beautiful  coloring  which  comes  from  the 
sunlight  shining  through  the  autumn  tinted 
leaves  of  the  forest  may  be  brought  to  any 
home,  for  a  short  time  at  least,  by  the  simple 
device  of  fastening  well-pressed  colored  leaves 
to  the  window  glass  by  means  of  slender  slips 
of  tissue  paper.  Sometimes  when  artistically 
arranged,  the  effect  is  that  of  a  costly  stained- 
glass  window.  A  clear  glass  paper  weight 
placed  on  a  sunshiny  window-sill  of  the  chil- 
dren's play  room  will  throw  each  morning  a 
sparkling  shower  of  pure  rainbow  colors  upon 
the  walls  and  floor,  much  to  the  delight  of  the 
children. 


104  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Every  earnest  mother  may  not  have  it  in 
her  power  to  give  to  her  child  a  knowledge  of 
and  a  love  for  noble  and  inspiring  music,  but 
she  can  give  to  him  a  perception  of  and  a  love 
for  beautiful  color,  no  matter  how  limited  her 
circumstances  nor  how  far  removed  from  the 
centers  of  culture  her  home  may  be.  We  can 
not  fill  a  child's  life  too  full  of  keen  enjoy- 
ments if  they  are  of  the  right  kind.  And  this 
love  of  color,  so  accessible  and  so  easily  im- 
parted, furnishes  him  with  clean,  healthful  rec- 
reation during  all  his  after  life,  for  when  once 
acquired  it  is  never  lost.  For  it  seems  to  be  one 
of  the  native  languages  of  the  soul  by  means 
of  which  the  great  heart-throbs  of  the  big  out- 
side world  are  felt  by  the  heart  within  the 
child,  just  as  tears  and  smiles  and  tones  of  the 
voice  are  understood  by  all  children.  I  have 
seen  children's  faces  grow  radiant  over  the 
colors  brought  out  by  the  wetting  of  some 
common  pebbles  gathered  from  a  neighboring 
gravel  pit;  and  a  joy  beyond  words  may  be 
awakened  by  the  gathering  of  a  handful  of  au- 
tumn leaves.  Why  should  we  fill  their  young 
lives  with  coarse  and  sensual  pleasures,  such  as 
fashionable  children's  parties,  visits  to  exciting 
theatres,  cheap  and  tawdry  toys,  when  they  are 


The  Influence  of  Color.  105 

so  easily  satisfied  by  the  beauty  and  the  marvels 
of  nature's  colors  ? 

The  Pan-American  Exposition  told  us  how 
color  could  be  used  to  beautify  a  city  so  that  it 
would  make  glad  the  heart  of  all  beholders,  be 
they  toilers  or  idlers.  Even  in  the  smaller  af- 
fairs of  life  a  knowledge  of  how  to  harmonize 
colors  is  of  great  value. 

Let  us  consider  this  practical  value  of  a  right 
knowledge  of  color  in  these  smaller  matters. 
Many  a  young  housekeeper  and  home-maker 
by  understanding  the  value  of  color  as  a  pro- 
ducer of  cheerful  and  restful  emotions,  could 
avoid  the  grave  mistake  of  having  her  house 
bare  and  unattractive  because  she  felt  she  could 
not  afford  to  furnish  it  handsomely.  Whereas, 
the  laudable  desire  to  make  her  home  bright 
and  cosy  could  be  accomplished  without  any 
great  outlay  of  money  did  she  realize  that  a 
happy  blending  of  colors  gives  an  impression  of 
warmth  and  cheer  far  more  than  mahogany 
furniture  or  costly  bric-a-brac.  I  know  of  one 
small  city  flat  which  is  a  thing  of  beauty  and  a 
joy  forever,  the  entire  furnishings  of  which, 
including  beds,  tables,  chairs,  stoves,  tubs, 
dishes  and  other  necessities,  cost  less  than  four 
hundred  dollars. 


106  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  the  detail  description 
of  a  home  in  which  this  right  use  of  colors  was 
manifested.  The  house,  built  of  thin  boards, 
was  hardly  more  than  a  shanty,  yet  two  people, 
by  their  industry,  artistic  taste  and  ingenuity, 
had  succeeded  in  producing  an  effect  in  the 
interior  of  comfort,  refinement  and  beauty. 
Their  resources  were  pitiably  limited  and  their 
materials  of  the  crudest  description,  but  they 
had  fashioned  with  their  own  hands  a  room 
which  would  excite  the  instant  admiration  of 
the  most  critical  observer. 

They  had  planed  the  floor  and  painted  it  a 
dark  shade  of  brown  with  a  shellac  finish,  and 
they  had  washed  the  bricks  of  the  chimney 
breast  with  a  rich  shade  of  Indian  red.  The 
plain,  heavy  shelf  of  red  wood  (which  was  sup- 
ported on  iron  brackets)  they  had  used  for  a 
mantel-piece.  The  rough  wooden  walls  of  the 
room  they  had  covered  with  burlaps  in  the 
neutral  tone  of  coffee  sacking. 

Books  they  possessed  in  abundance  in  rich 
and  many  toned  bindings,  and  for  these  they 
had  constructed  shelves  of  wooden  boxes.  They 
had  painted  them  black,  and  hung  curtains  of 
Turkey  red  calico  at  intervals  in  front.  The 
black  lines  of  the  book  shelves  and  the  vivid 


The  Influence  of  Color.  107 

scarlet  of  the  Turkey  red  cotton  lent  added  bril- 
liance to  the  book  bindings,  and  as  this  ar- 
rangement ran  along  an  entire  side  of  the  room 
it  went  far  toward  furnishing  it. 

Above  the  shelves  hung  the  man's  strong, 
inimitable  watercolors,  and  their  background 
of  burlaps  brought  them  into  fine  relief.  On 
the  top  shelf  of  the  bookcase,  which  was  about 
five  feet  from  the  floor,  were  placed  some  inter- 
esting pieces  of  Indian  pottery  and  a  few  fine 
photographs,  and  some  wooden  chairs  had 
been  wrought  into  objects  of  real  beauty 
through  the  transforming  medium  of  red  paint. 
By  means  of  many  coats  and  a  careful  rub- 
bing down  they  had  acquired  a  scarlet  lacquer, 
and  stood  out  in  bright  relief  on  the  dark  floor, 
and  with  their  plain  red  cushions  added  much 
to  the  effect  of  comfort  and  beauty.  Other 
chairs  were  painted  black,  as  was  the  wood- 
work of  the  room.  Flat  cushions  of  dark  blue 
denim,  tied  in  the  black  chairs,  made  them 
pretty  and  presentable. 

There  was  also  in  this  room  a  feature  which 
undoubtedly  lent  an  indescribable  charm  to 
the  whole.  This  simple  little  house  situated  on 
the  edge  of  the  desert,  one  vaguely  wondered 
why  it  was  that  one  was  suddenly  assailed  with 


108  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

a  breath  of  an  older,  more  finished  world — a 
world  of  art,  of  letters,  of  society.  The  books, 
pictures,  the  few  objects  of  art,  the  rich,  har- 
monious combination  of  colors,  of  course  all 
conspired  to  produce  this  result,  and  yet  the 
room  was  invested  with  a  special  charm  which 
was  almost  startling. 

It  was  a  wonderful  window,  filling  almost 
the  entire  wall  space  of  one  side  of  the  room, 
which  had  produced  the  delightful  effect.  The 
man  who  was  responsible  for  it  waved  his  hand 
smilingly  toward  it. 

"You  see  my  one  extravagance!"  he  said. 
"In  my  overweening  desire  to  let  out  of  doors 
into  my  house  I  cut  so  large  a  hole  that  it  cost 
a  great  deal  to  glaze  it." 

The  sum  was  really  a  modest  one,  yet,  as  he 
said,  it  exceeded  the  cost  of  all  of  the  rest  of  his 
furnishing.  But  it  was  not  only  that  this  win- 
dow admitted  an  extended  view  of  the  plains, 
the  desert  stretching  to  a  far  horizon  of  the  en- 
circling mountains,  the  palms  and  little  grass 
plot  close  at  hand,  but  it  had  received  a  magical 
treatment  which  made  it  one  of  the  prettiest 
windows  conceivable. 

It  began  at  the  ceiling  and  stopped  within 
eighteen  inches  of  the  floor,  and  it  was  six 


The  Influence  of  Color.  109 

feet  wide.  It  was  made  of  the  ordinary  panes 
of  window  glass  and  opened  outward  in  French 
doors.  The  sash  and  casing-  were  painted  black, 
to  correspond  with  the  woodwork  of  the  room. 
From  the  top  of  the  window  a  grill  of  black 
lattice  work  had  been  dropped.  This  was  made 
of  slender,  pliable  strips  of  wood,  plaited  in  and 
out,  and  was  two  feet  deep. 

The  fascinating  effect  of  a  tempered,  rosy 
light  casting  a  glamour  on  every  object  in  the 
room  was  due  to  a  fluting  of  thin  red  cotton 
goods  behind  the  lattice  panel.  Falling  from  the 
bottom  edge  of  the  panel  were  full,  soft  cur- 
tains, carelessly  drawn  back,  of  Turkey  red  cot- 
ton. The  low  black  sill  held  a  prim  row  of  vivid 
scarlet  geraniums,  and  a  desk  and  chair,  as  well 
as  a  lounging  chair  (over  which  was  thrown  a 
scarlet  Navajo  blanket),  stood  in  front  of  it. 
Some  desert  wild  flowers  bloomed  on  the  desk, 
and  a  huge  bamboo  curtain,  propped  on  baskets 
on  the  outside  of  the  house,  served  as  an  awn- 
ing, which  could  be  lowered  at  will. 

The  dark  blue  rug  which  covered  the  floor 
had  been  made  by  a  rag  carpet  weaver  in  the 
town  near  by,  and  was  dyed  an  indigo  blue.  An 
orange  silk  shade  to  an  iron  lamp  picked  itself 
out  brightly  in  the  room,  and  there  were  one 


110  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

or  two  cushions  of  this  color.  The  results 
produced  by  this  glaring  but  harmonious 
blending  of  color  was  indescribable. 

I  have  a  friend  who  so  well  understands  both 
the  economy  and  the  artistic  value  of  color 
that  she  nearly  always  dresses  in  brown,  usual- 
ly the  shades  known  as  golden-brown,  which 
happened  to  be  a  becoming  color  to  her,  varied 
and  softening  in  tone,  or  course,  by  some  parts 
of  her  costume  being  made  of  velvet  and  silk 
or  cloth  of  darker  or  lighter  shades  of  another 
weave  than  the  dress  itself.  We  were  traveling 
together  one  summer  and  chanced  to  be  out 
driving  with  a  woman  whose  social  position 
brought  her  in  contact  with  some  of  the  best 
dressed  women  of  Europe  and  America.  After 
my  friend  had  left  us  she  said,  "How  becom- 
ingly your  friend  dresses!  She  looked  like  a 
picture  to-day." — "But  then,"  she  added,  with 
a  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  "Such  dressing  costs 
money.  It  takes  a  fortune  to  keep  it  up."  "I 
beg  your  pardon,"  replied  I, "You  are  mistaken. 
My  friend  is  not  a  woman  of  wealth.  The  gown 
she  wore  today  was  Henrietta  cloth  for  which 
she  paid  seventy-five  cents  a  yard;  that  little 
brown  bonnet  has  been  worn  four  years  and  the 
pongee  silk  parasol  lined  with  brown,  which 


The  Influence  of  Color.  Ill 

casts  such  a  warm  color  over  her  face  and  cos- 
tume, cost,  I  think,  three  dollars  and  a  half." 
My  listener  looked  incredulous.  "Why  she 
always  looks  well  dressed,"  I  added,  "is  because 
she  understands  the  combining  of  color  so  as  to 
produce  the  harmony  of  effect  which  is  usually 
the  result  of  the  artistic  skill  of  high-priced 
dressmakers." 

These  may  seem  but  trifling  illustrations  in 
view  of  the  larger  meaning  of  color,  and  yet 
trifles  are  as  much  a  part  of  life  as  are  the 
soul-stirring  emotions  awakened  by  the  sub- 
limer  spectacles  of  color  in  Nature's  divinely  il- 
lumined picture  gallery,  or  the  deep  truths 
brought  to  us  by  the  symbolic  and  mystical  use 
of  color  in  the  great  literature  of  the  world. 
There  is  as  true  an  art  in  serving  a  dinner  as 
in  writing  a  poem.  There  is  as  true  an  art  in 
properly  clothing  a  child  as  in  carving  a  statue. 
There  is  as  true  an  art  in  furnishing  a  living 
room  as  in  building  a  cathedral.  It  is  but  a  dif- 
ference in  degree  when  results  are  looked  at.  In 
the  one  case,  the  every  day  materials  of  family 
life  are  used  to  elevate  and  refine  the  family ;  in 
the  other  case,  the  more  lasting  materials  of  na- 
ture are  used  to  inspire  and  uplift  mankind.  The 
principles  of  harmony,  of  appropriateness,  of 


112  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

simplicity,  of  use  underlie  both.  Each  may  be 
made  an  expression  of  the  soul's  ideals.  Each 
may  stir  in  its  own  way  the  nobler  emotions. 
Some  one  has  called  the  great  paintings,  stat- 
ues, and  cathedrals  of  the  world  "the  auto- 
biographies of  great  souls."  May  we  not,  with 
equal  truthfulness  call  an  harmonious,  well 
arranged  home  "the  autobiography  of  a  loving 
heart?"  And  upon  no  one  thing  does  the 
beauty  and  harmony  of  home  appointments  de- 
pend so  much  as  upon  the  right  use  of  color. 

But  color  not  only  cheers  and  refreshens  us. 
It  performs  the  same  service  in  the  great  world 
of  Nature.  It  warms  and  strengthens  the 
young  catkins  in  the  early  springtime ;  it  modi- 
fies the  chill  of  the  water  for  the  frail  algae; 
it  vivifies  the  dying  leaves  in  autumn.  It  gives 
to  each  and  all  of  these  its  gorgeous  reds  and 
oranges  and  yellows  that  bring  the  life-giving 
rays  of  the  sun  as  cool  greens  or  dull  grays 
could  not  do. 

The  part  which  color  plays  in  the  propaga- 
tion of  plant  life,  by  attracting  insects  which 
carry  the  pollen  from  one  flower  to  another, 
is  too  well  known  to  need  comment  here.  But 
science  has  not  yet  taught  us  why  the  inside 
of  the  shell  of  the  nautilus  is  finished  in  such 


The  Influence  of  Color.  113 

exquisite  rainbow  tints,  nor  why  the  splendid 
colors  of  the  peacock  are  hidden  under  the  in- 
crustation of  the  abalone's  shell.  Nor  do  we 
yet  know  why  such  rich  veining  of  colors  are 
buried  in  the  heart  of  the  agate  and  onyx. 

The  influence  which  color  has  upon  the  emo- 
tions is  unexplainable.  "Imagine,"  says  Rus- 
kin,  "what  the  world  and  men's  own  existence 
would  become  if  the  blue  were  taken  from  the 
sky,  and  the  gold  from  the  sunshine,  and  the 
verdure  from  the  leaves,  and  the  crimson  from 
the  blood,  which  is  the  life  of  man,  and  the 
flush  from  the  cheek,  the  darkness  from  the 
eye,  the  radiance  from  the  hair;  if  they  could 
see  for  an  instant,  white  human  creatures  liv- 
ing in  a  white  world,  they  would  soon  feel 
what  they  owe  to  color." 

We  can  perhaps  more  fully  realize  from  our 
own  experience  the  mysterious  influence  which 
color  exerts  over  each  one  of  us,  if  we  will  but 
recall  a  succession  of  dull  gray  days  which  end 
in  a  day  of  unexpected  sunshine  and  blue  skies. 
Can  we  not  easily  remember  the  sudden  feeling 
of  escape  from  prison  that  possessed  us,  the 
new  and  cheerful  view  that  we  involuntarily 
took  of  the  old  problems,  which  had  harassed 
us  the  day  before?  This  swift  change  of  our 


114  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

inner  world  is  not  due  so  much  to  the  change 
in  the  barometer  as  to  the  change  from  sombre 
to  glad  colors  in  the  world  about  us.  The  joy 
of  the  woods,  the  glory  of  the  mountains,  the 
sublimity  of  the  desert,  are  due  to  the  coloring 
of  the  trees  and  rocks  and  air  far  more  than 
we  realize.  The  changing  moods  which  the 
changing  aspects  of  the  sea  give  to  us  is  an- 
other evidence  of  the  influence  of  color  upon 
the  mind  of  man.  One  might  almost  say  that 
just  in  proportion  as  color  speaks  to  us  does 
nature  give  to  us  of  her  poetry. 

Especially  can  we  trace  it  in  the  great 
schools  of  painting  that  indicate  the  rise  and 
fall  of  a  nation's  spiritual  life.  This  is  not 
the  place  in  which  to  speak  of  pictures  and 
the  undeniable  influence  which  they  exercise 
upon  the  beholder  but,  perhaps  a  few  words 
about  the  significance  of  color  used  by  different 
schools  of  painters  may  not  be  out  of  order. 
Certain  it  is  that  anything  like  a  close  study 
cf  the  subject  will  verify  the  declaration  that 
if  we  do  not  discipline  and  educate  a  people's 
love  of  color  they  will  inevitably  use  it  to  cor- 
rupt themselves.  Wherever  we  find  a  school 
of  artists  devout  and  reverent,  holding  their 
art  as  a  sacred  trust  to  be  used  for  the  glory 


The  Influence  of  Color.  115 

of  God  and  the  uplifting  of  humanity,  we  find 
pure  strong  rich  color.  The  most  notable  ex- 
ample of  this  is,  perhaps,  to  be  seen  in  those 
beautiful  prayer-songs  of  Fra  Angelica  where 
the  purity  of  the  colors  correspond  to  the  pur- 
ity of  his  soul,  and  their  splendor  to  his  rev- 
erent thought  of  the  glory  of  God.  Again 
in  the  early  Flemish  school  we  find  strong 
pure  color  used  unhesitatingly;  whereas  the 
later  artists  of  both  of  these  nations,  dropped 
into  browns  and  other  mixed  and  impure  colors 
just  to  the  degree  that  they  exalted  themselves 
and  their  technique  rather  than  the  nobility  of 
their  subjects.  Take  for  example  the  later 
Dutch  artist  where  the  tints  of  a  copper  kettle 
and  hues  of  onions  or  leeks  are  the  most  at- 
tractive things  in  the  picture.  When  we  come 
down  to  more  recent  artists  we  have  but  to 
point  to  Millet  and  his  fellow  workers  to  show 
how  again  the  exaltation  of  the  theme  is  accom- 
panied by  purity  of  color. 

All  literature  is  full  of  the  keen  sensuous 
pleasure  which  color  gives.  Wordsworth,  the 
pre-eminent  poet  of  Nature,  exclaims,  "My 
heart  leaped  up  when  I  beheld  the  rainbow  in 
the  sky."  Browning  speaks  of  the  dragon-fly 
that  "shot  by  me  like  a  flash  of  purple  fire." 


116  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

The  fish  of  the  sea  became  things  of  beauty  and 
affection  to  the  poet  Keats,  and  he  calls  them 
"My  clear-eyed  fish,  golden  or  rainbow  sided, 
or  purplish  vermilion-tailed,  or  finned  with  sil- 
very gauze." 

What  a  wondrous  worshipper  of  color  the 
blind  Milton  must  have  been!  And  Shake- 
speare reveled  in  color  until  he  speaks  of  the 
sun  as  an  alchemist  that  turned  "the  meager 
cloddy  earth  to  glistening  gold."  (He  who 
has  not  seen  this  miracle  has  lost  much.) 

Dante  clothes  his  Inferno  in  such  dark  and 
angry  colors  that  we  suffocate  and  gasp  for 
air,  and  sickening  sorrow  fills  our  souls.  The 
slow  climb  up  the  mount  of  Purgatory  is  best 
indicated  by  the  increase  of  brighter  and  more 
cheerful  coloring,  and  the  gleam  and  glory 
of  the  Paradise  dazzles  our  eyes  with  light  in- 
effable. 

When  we  turn  to  the  study  of  color  as  an 
instrument  for  the  expression  of  the  deepest 
spiritual  emotions  of  man  a  vast  field  opens 
out  before  us.  Of  this  more  profound  use  of 
color  as  a  means  of  expressing  emotions  which 
are  too  deep  for  words,  let  us  take  the  use 
of  the  rainbow  for  an  example.  In  the  earliest 
era  of  recorded  history  we  find  the  hero  Noah. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  117 

Devastating  floods  have  swept  away  all  his 
earthly  possessions.  His  life  has  proved  a 
failure  as  men  judge  of  failures  and  successes. 
His  imprisonment  in  the  ark  is  ended.  He 
opens  the  door  and  the  dead  desolation  of  a 
waste  of  waters  lies  before  him.  But  he  turns 
his  eye  toward  heaven,  and  a  rainbow  appears. 
It  brings  to  him  the  promise  of  the  everlasting 
protection  of  God  as  no  words  would  have 
been  able  to  have  brought  it.  We  can  trace 
the  symbolic  use  of  this  unity  of  all  color  on 
down  through  the  ceremonies  of  the  law,  the 
rhapsodies  of  the  prophets,  the  ecstasy  of  the 
Psalmist,  and  the  mystic  love  songs  of  Eccle- 
siastes.  Throughout  the  sacred  books  of  the 
Hebrews,  even  to  the  end,  when  the  Angel 
of  the  Apocalypse  descends  from  Heaven  with 
a  rainbow  about  his  head,  we  find  allusions 
to  the  rainbow. 

In  Egyptian  literature  the  colors  of  the  rain- 
bow were  associated  with  the  garments  of  Isis, 
the  mother-God.  In  Greek  mythology,  the 
girdle  of  Iris,  the  messenger  between  the  gods 
and  men,  was  of  rainbow  colors.  The  Teu- 
tonic peoples  seized  upon  the  symbol  and  made 
the  rainbow  a  bridge  from  Asgard  to  Walhalla, 
and  the  common  folk  lore  placed  the  prize  to 


118  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

be  sought  (the  typical  pot  of  gold)  at  the 
spot  where  the  end  of  the  rainbow  is  reached. 
And  did  they  not  speak  wiser  than  they  knew  ? 
Are  not  true  riches  found  when  we  have 
reached  the  place  where  all  the  lights  and 
shades  of  life  are  harmonized  ?  The  great  Ger- 
man poet,  Goethe,  uses  the  rainbow  in  a  most 
masterly  way  to  express  all  the  comfort  and 
consolation  that  the  Christian  faith  can  give 
to  a  disconsolate  sinner.  When  Faust  awak- 
ens from  his  delusive  dream  that  peace  and 
happiness  may  be  obtained  through  mere  sen- 
sual pleasures,  his  soul  is  rilled  with  an  agony 
of  grief  and  remorse.  He  opens  his  eyes  upon 
a  world  of  light  and  beauty,  but  the  darkness 
within  blots  it  from  his  sight.  He  turns  in 
anguish  towards  the  sun,  the  source  of  all 
light  and  warmth,  but  the  sun  dazzles  him, 
blinds  him!  It  is  too  great — too  powerful! 
In  despair  he  turns  the  other  way,  and  sees 
a  beautiful  rainbow,  composed  of  earthly  drops 
of  water,  each  one  illumined  in  its  own  small 
sphere  by  the  light  from  the  sun,  and  all  to- 
gether making  an  harmonious  whole  and  his 
heart  takes  courage  and  he  is  ready  to  begin 
life  again,  to  build  up,  as  best  he  can,  the 
shattered  wreck  and  ruin  he  has  made  of  it. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  119 

Could  anything  be  more  beautiful,  more  sug- 
gestive, than  this  one  touch  of  color,  symbol- 
ically used  by  a  master  hand? 

It  can  not  be  possible  that  this  use  of  the 
rainbow  colors  to  express  peace  and  harmony 
is  a  mere  arbitrary  device  used  by  the  great 
seers  and  poets  throughout  all  the  ages.  There 
must  have  been  in  their  minds  a  subtle  but 
keenly  felt  link  between  color  and  emotional 
nature  of  man.  What  they  felt  and  expressed, 
we  all  feel  in  a  dumb  way. 

"The  infinite  moods  of  the  human  soul  seem 
thus  to  have  a  corresponding  infinite  in  color," 
says  Josephine  Locke.  And  the  very  terms 
used  in  the  following  passage  show  how  close 
and  natural  that  correspondence  is.  "Color  is 
soft  and  quieting  in  the  verdure  of  the  wood- 
land; it  is  tender  and  gentle  in  the  dawn  and 
the  twilight;  solemn  and  earnest  in  the  mid- 
night darkness;  peaceful  and  soothing  in  the 
moonlight ;  stirring  and  uplifting  in  its  sunrise- 
colors.  It  sparkles  in  the  dewdrop ;  glitters  in 
the  frost  crystal;  is  gorgeous  in  the  sunshine; 
fearful  in  the  storm  cloud;  terrible  in  the  fire; 
and  sickening  in  the  red  carnage  of  the  battle 
field.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  entire  gamut 
of  human  emotions  had  their  external  comple- 


120  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ment  in  color."  Many  more  illustrations  will 
come  to  the  mind  of  my  reader  to  show  the 
subtle  chords  that  bind  the  sensations  produced 
by  external  colors  to  the  emotions  within  man. 
The  intelligent  priesthood  of  past  ages  seems 
to  have  understood  this  office  of  color  and  to 
have  used  it  to  guide  the  emotional  nature  of 
the  ignorant  masses  until  a  regular  ritual  of 
color  was  established  and  symbolic  colors  were 
used  much  as  symbolic  gestures  have  been  used. 

The  Egyptian  colors  as  found  in  their  tombs 
and  temples  were  not  a  reproduction  of  the 
colors  of  nature.  They  were  conventional :  and 
yet  they  appealed  in  some  mysterious  unex- 
plainable  way  to  the  hearts  of  the  people.  The 
priesthood  understood  and  directed  them;  the 
people  only  felt  and  worshipped  them. 

Painters  in  modern  times  have  tried  in  vain 
to  reproduce  them  or  rather  their  effect.  But 
modern  painters  have  not  had  reverence  with- 
in their  own  hearts,  and  so  they  have  failed 
in  producing  worship  from  without.  Modern 
scholars  have  had  no  better  success  in  their 
efforts  to  explain  the  power  which  these  Egyp- 
tian colors  possessed ;  for  modern  scholars  have 
lacked  also  the  key  of  deep  reverence  by  which 
alone  the  secret  of  the  symbolic  influence  of 
color  is  unlocked. 


The  Influence  of  Color.  121 

"Red  is  said  to  mean  the  great  generative 
principle  manifested  upon  a  physical  plane.  We 
know  that  the  effect  of  red  upon  the  eye  is  to 
excite,  to  stimulate.  It  stands  for  warmth,  for 
heat.  Red,  merging  into  glowing  orange  is 
called  "fire  color,"  and  speaks  of  a  subtler 
thought  of  the  creative  symbol."  But  does  this 
explain  anything  to  us  ? 

Whether  it  can  be  explained  or  not,  we  know 
that  the  Egyptians'  symbolic  use  of  color  had 
its  influence  on  the  religious  and  the  art  ideas 
of  the  great  nations  that  grew  out  of  Egypt  or 
assimilated  its  civilization  and  culture.  Judea, 
Assyria,  Persia,  even  the  far  east  echo  the 
chosen  colors  of  Egypt,  in  their  temples  and 
the  robes  of  their  priests,  modified,  of  course, 
by  locality,  and  other  traditional  influences. 

In  fact,  even  in  Greece,  it  was  not  until  the 
Egyptian  religious  ideas  had  lost  their  hold 
upon  the  Greek  mind  that  color  in  painting 
began  to  express  Greek  thought." 

Moses,  the  leader  and  moulder  of  his  peo- 
ple, was  "learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyp- 
tians," and  took  with  him  into  the  desert  their 
love  of  color  and  their  use  of  it  in  their  wor- 
ship. 

In  the  building  of  the  tabernacle  in  the  wil- 


122  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

derness  (by  means  of  which  the  loving  devotion 
of  the  Hebrew  people  was  to  be  concentrated 
upon  the  worship  of  the  one  true  God),  Moses 
commanded  them  to  bring  "Gold  and  silver  and 
brass,  blue,  purple  and  scarlet,  and  fine  twined 
linen."  This  twined  linen  gave  the  contrasted 
harmony  needed,  by  its  more  neutral  tones  of 
whitish  grey.  The  curtains  of  the  tabernacle 
were  of  fine  twined  linen  with  blue  and  purple 
and  scarlet  embroidery  upon  them.  The  che- 
rubims  were  overlaid  with  glittering  gold ;  even 
the  covering  of  the  tent  was  of  ram's  skin 
dyed  red.  What  a  gorgeous  sight  it  must  have 
been!  How  its  color  must  have  stirred  the 
emotions  of  this  primitive  race.  The  splendor 
of  the  description  of  the  Holy  of  Holies  daz- 
zles the  eye  of  the  imagination  as  we  read  it. 
Even  the  sacred  robes  in  which  the  high 
priest  was  clad  when  he  stood  before  the  people 
as  mediator  between  them  and  God,  was  a  rich 
poem  of  color.  Behold  him,  clothed  in  the  soft 
greyish  white  of  flax  embroidered  profusely 
with  blue  and  purple  and  scarlet  and  gold.  See 
the  flash  and  gleam  of  the  diamond,  the  yellow 
of  the  topaz,  the  red  of  the  carbuncles,  the 
green  of  emeralds,  the  blue  of  sapphires,  the 
pink  of  sardonyx;  the  greenish  light  of  the 


The  Influence  of  Color.  123 

beryl,  together  with  the  indescribably  lovely 
hues  of  the  onyx,  jasper,  and  agate,  all  set  in 
gold. 

Can  you  not  see  him  moving  about,  now  in 
the  sunlight,  now  in  the  shadow,  as  he  per- 
forms for  them  their  most  sacred  rites?  How 
again  this  play  of  color  must  have  fired  their 
imagination  and  stirred  their  emotions! 

Whenever  a  great  souled  Hebrew  prophet 
or  seer  lost  himself  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
glory  and  greatness  of  Deity,  or  was  bowed 
down  in  anguish  over  the  sins  of  his  people, 
ordinary  words  seemed  to  fail  him  and  he 
seized  upon  the  language  of  color  to  give  vent 
to  his  overwhelming  emotion.  In  the  ecstacy  of 
inspired  vision  the  ordinary  language  of  his 
people  was  nothing :  color  alone  could  give  any 
idea  of  the  glory  or  of  the  awful  darkness. 
Thus  we  find  in  the  vision  of  Ezekiel  that  glow- 
ing amber  signified  the  presence  of  the  Lord. 

The  strange  beasts  descending  out  of  the 
heavens  "sparkled  like  burnished  brass,"  "their 
appearance  was  like  burning  coals  of  fire,"  and 
"the  appearance  of  the  wheel  was  like  the  color 
of  beryl  and  over  their  heads  was  a  firmament 
like  the  color  of  crystal,"  and  "their  heads  were 
like  the  sapphire  stone."  We  read  on  until  the 
prophet  seems  almost  intoxicated  with  color ! 


124  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

What  would  Solomon's  description  of  the 
Bride  be,  if  color  was  left  out  in  his  com- 
parisons of  her  beauty  to  the  most  beautiful 
things  about  him  ?  In  the  reading  of  the  Rev- 
elations of  St.  John  one  is  reminded  of  beau- 
tiful chapels  in  Europe  built  in  mediaeval  times 
where  the  walls  are  for  the  most  part  stained 
glass  windows,  and  which  give  one  the  sensa- 
tion of  being  inside  of  a  rich,  well  cut  diamond. 
Wise  indeed  have  been  the  Greek  and  Roman 
branches  of  the  Christian  church  to  retain  in 
their  symbolic  ceremonials  the  powerful  appeal 
which  color  makes  to  the  human  heart.  Our 
Protestant  America  has  yet  to  learn  that  wor- 
ship may  be  expressed  through  color  as  well  as 
through  music. 

What  then  is  the  secret  of  the  powerful  in- 
fluence which  color  exercises  over  the  hearts  of 
men?  No  better  reply  can  be  found  than  that 
given  by  the  writer  who  has  done  more  than 
any  other  man  of  modern  times  to  awaken  our 
age  to  the  real  significance  and  value  of  color. 

"The  infinite  soul  of  humanity,"  says  John 
Ruskin,  "with  its  divine  worship  of  self-abne- 
gation, has  no  counterpart  in  all  nature  equal 
to  the  service  which  color  renders  to  the  rest 
of  the  world.  How  it  glorifies  and  uplifts  the 


The  Influence  of  Color.  125 

commonest  objects!"     No  wonder  that  he  has 
called  color  the  type  and  symbol  of  Love ! 


Thus  may  we  trace  in  part  the  influence  of 
color  on  the  mind  of  man  in  the  past  and  pres- 
ent. Perhaps  I  can  not  better  close  this  inade- 
quate survey  of  the  office  of  color  than  by 
giving  some  prophecies  of  its  future  use  as  ex- 
pressed by  one  or  two  writers  of  today  who 
have  felt  its  possibilities  in  new  directions. 

"The  only  possible  rival  to  sound,  as  a  ve- 
hicle for  pure  emotion,  is  color,"  says  Dr. 
Haweis,  "but  up  to  the  present  time,  no  art  has 
been  invented  which  stands  in  exactly  the  same 
relation  to  color  as  music  does  to  sound.  No 
one  who  has  ever  attentively  watched  a  sun- 
set can  fail  to  have  noticed,  that  color  as  well 
as  sound  possesses  all  the  fine  qualities  which 
belong  to  emotion;  the  fading  of  dark  tints 
into  bright  ones  corresponds  to  elevation  and 
depression,  the  palpitations  of  light  and  nobil- 
ity of  hues  give  velocity,  the  poorness  or  rich- 
ness of  the  sun's  color  constitutes  its  intensity, 
the  presence  of  more  than  one  color  gives  va- 
riety; while  form  is  determined  by  the  various 
degrees  of  space  occupied  by  the  different 
colors. 


126  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

No  method  has  yet  been  discovered  of  ar- 
ranging color  by  itself  for  the  eye  as  a  musi- 
cian's art  arranges  sound  for  the  ear.  We  have 
no  color  pictures  depending  solely  upon  color 
as  we  have  symphonies  depending  solely  upon 
sound.  In  Turner's  works,  we  find  the  nearest 
approach,  but  even  he  by  the  necessary  limi- 
tation of  his  art  is  without  the  property  of 
velocity.  The  canvas  does  not  change  to  the 
eye,  all  that  is,  is  presented  simultaneous,  as 
by  one  complex  chord  and  then  the  charm 
of  velocity,  which  is,  so  great  a  property  in 
emotion  and  which  might  belong  to  a  color 
art,  is  denied  to  the  painter. 

Color  now  stands  in  the  same  kind  of  rela- 
tion to  the  painter's  art,  as  sound  among  the 
Greeks  did  to  the  gymnast,  but  just  as  we 
speak  of  the  classic  age  as  a  time  long  before 
the  era  of  great  music,  so  bye  and  bye  posterity 
may  allude  to  the  present  age  as  an  age  be- 
fore the  color  art  was  known,  an  age  in  which 
color  had  not  yet  been  developed  in  a  language 
of  pure  emotion,  but  was  simply  used  as  an  ac- 
cessory to  drawing.  Such  was  music  in  relation 
to  bodily  exercise  and  rhythmic  action  and  here 
I  would  express  my  conviction  that  there  is  a 
color  art  exactly  analogous  to  the  sound.  Art 


The  Influence  of  Color.  127 

in  music  is  possible  and  is  among  the  arts  which 
have  to  be  traversed  in  the  future  as  sculpture, 
architecture,  painting  and  music  have  been  in 
the  past.  Nor  do  I  see  why  it  should  not  equal 
any  of  these  in  the  splendor  of  its  results  and 
variety  of  its  application. 

The  reader  whose  eye  is  passionately  respon- 
sive to  color  may  gain  some  faint  anticipation 
of  the  color  art  of  the  future,  if  he  will  try 
to  recall  the  kind  of  impressions  made  upon 
him  by  the  exquisite  tints  painted  upon 
the  dark  curtain  of  the  night  at  a  display 
of  fireworks.  I  select  fireworks  as  an  illus- 
tration in  preference  to  the  most  gorgeous 
sunset,  because  I  am  not  speaking  of  nature,  but 
art,  that  is  to  say  something  into  the  compo- 
sition of  which  the  mind  of  men  has  entered 
and  whose  very  meaning  depends  upon  its  bear- 
ing evidence  of  human  design,  and  I  select  py- 
rotechny  instead  of  painting  of  any  kind  be- 
cause in  it  we  get  the  important  emotional 
property  of  velocity  which  is  necessarily  absent 
from  color.  At  such  a  display  as  I  have  men- 
tioned, we  are  in  fact  present  at  the  most  as- 
tonishing revelations  of  light  and  color.  The 
effects  produced  are  indeed  often  associated 
with  vulgur  patterns,  loud  noises  and  the  most 


128  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

coarse  and  stupid  contrasts.  Sometimes  these 
are  felicitous  for  a  moment  by  the  merest 
chance,  but  usually  they  are  chaotic,  incoherent, 
discordant  and  supportable  only  because  of  the 
splendor  of  the  materials  employed;  but  what 
a  majestic  symphony  might  not  be  played  with 
such  orchestral  blaze  of  incomparable  hues ! 

What  delicate  melodies  might  be  composed 
of  single  floating  lights  changing  from  one  slow 
intensity  to  another,  then  the  dark  might  inter- 
vene until  some  tender  dawn  of  opal  might  by 
chance  receive  the  last  fluttering  pulse  of  light 
and  prepare  the  eye  for  some  new  passage  of 
exquisite  color. 

Why  should  we  not  go  down  to  the  palace 
of  the  people  and  assist  at  a  real  color  prelude 
or  symphony,  as  we  now  go  down  to  hear  a 
work  of  Mozart  or  Mendelssohn?  But  the 
color  art  must  first  be  constituted,  its  symbols 
and  phraseology  be  discovered,  its  instrument 
invented  and  its  composers  born. 

Until  then  music  will  have  no  rival  as  an  art 
medium  of  emotion."* 

Albert  Lavignac,  in  his  "Music  and  Musi- 
cians," confirms  this  theory  of  Dr.  Haweis 
by  a  testimony,  which,  though  entirely  dif- 

*  "Music  and  Morals," 


The  Influence  of  Color.  129 

ferent,  yet  shows  the  close  relation  between 
music  and  color.     He  says: 

"The  painter  habitually  employs  this  meta- 
phor, 'the  gamut  of  color,'  and  the  musician 
may  appropriately  use  this  one  in  turn,  'the  col- 
oring of  an  orchestra.'  Of  this  coloring  I  have 
now  to  speak.  Too  often  the  ludicrous  side  is 
seen  of  the  anecdote — really  a  sad  one, — where 
a  man  blind  from  his  birth  is  instructed  by  a 
friend  concerning  the  color  red.  'It  is  violent,' 
says  the  friend,  'striking,  superb,  yet  brutal;  it 
kills  adjacent  tints.'  'Oh,  I  understand,'  re- 
joins the  blind  man,  'this  color  red  must  be 
like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.'  Now  it  is  not  un- 
reasonable to  maintain  that  he  was  quite  right 
and  that  each  instrument  has  really  its  own 
color,  which  may  be  defined  as  its  special  char- 
acter, admitting  at  the  same  time  that  this  re- 
semblance may  vary  with  different  observers, 
perhaps  owing  to  differences  in  the  conforma- 
tion of  the  eye  or  ear.  From  this  divergence 
in  judgment  comes  the  sole  real  objection  as  to 
the  demonstration  I  propose  making.  To  most 
persons,  as  to  myself,  the  thereal,  suave, 
transparent  timbre  of  the  flute,  with  its  pla- 
cidity and  its  poetic  charm  produces  an  audi- 
tory sensation  analogous  to  the  visual  impres- 


130  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

sion  of  the  color  blue — of  fine  blue,  pure  and 
luminous  as  the  ozone  of  the  sky.  The  oboe, 
so  appropriate  to  the  expression  of  rustic  sen- 
timents, appears  to  me  to  be  distinctly  green 
of  rather  crude  tint.  The  warm  sound  of  the 
clarionet,  at  once  rough  and  velvety,  brilliant  in 
the  high  notes,  but  rich  in  the  lower  register, 
calls  up  the  idea  of  a  red  brown,  the  Van  Dyke 
red,  garnet.  The  horn  is  yellow,  a  brilliant 
coppery  yellow,  and  the  poor  cor  anglais  so 
melancholy,  corresponds  to  violet,  expressing 
affliction,  sadness  and  resignation.  The  family 
of  trumpets,  clarions,  and  trombones,  presents 
all  the  gradations  of  crimson;  mingled  with 
the  horns  it  gives  orange,  while  the  cornet,  triv- 
ial and  braggart  utters  a  note  of  very  ordinary 
red  ox  blood,  or  of  wine. 

The  bassoon,  sombre,  sad,  painful,  with  fee- 
ble timid  and  inconspicuous  timbre  is  certainly 
a  dark  brown.  Not  a  clean  color,  but  a  little 
mixed  with  grey.  The  percussion  instruments, 
kettle  drums,  bass  drum,  make  great  black 
holes  in  the  mass  of  sound.  The  roll  of  the 
side  drum  is  greyish.  The  triangle,  on  the  other 
hand,  can  be  nothing  else  but  silvery.  Thus 
at  least  I  hear  them,  which  does  not  prevent 
other  men  from  seeing  them  differently." 


The  Influence  of  Color.  131 

He  then  enlarges  upon  color  suggested  by  the 
bow  instruments,  showing  how  their  infinite 
variety  of  timbre  corresponds  to  the  infinite 
variety  of  colors.  The  violin,  in  particular, 
he  claims,  possesses  the  whole  gamut  of  color. 
The  viola  has  them  all,  too,  but  veiled  by  a 
general  neutral  tint  as  if  seen  through  a  fog. 
This  interesting  insight  into  a  musician's  con- 
ception of  the  relationship  between  music  and 
color  ends  with  these  words : 

"The  art  of  orchestration  seems  to  me 
to  have  much  similarity  to  the  painter's  art 
in  the  use  of  color;  the  musician's  palate  is 
his  orchestral  list;  here  he  finds  all  the  tones 
necessary  to  clothe  his  thought,  his  melodic 
design,  his  harmonic  tissue,  to  produce  lights 
and  shadows,  and  he  mixes  them  almost  as  a 
painter  mixes  his  colors." 

Again,  Dr.  Denton  J.  Snider,  in  his  "World's 
Fair  Studies,"  prophesies  a  still  more  signifi- 
cant use  of  color  in  and  of  itself  as  a  fine  art 
capable  of  expressing  the  sublimest  moods  of 
the  soul. 

"Color  at  the  World's  Fair,"  says,  he,  "has 
risen  into  colossal  proportions;  by  means  of 
electricity  and  pyrotechnics,  a  new  art  of  il- 
lumination is  hinted  in  these  grand  displays. 


132  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Light  with  its  variations  of  color  thrown  upon 
the  vast  background  of  night,  moonlit,  starlit, 
or  clouded,  into  many  shapes  of  flying  dragons, 
has  produced  the  most  wonderful  spectacular 
effects,  embracing1  land,  water,  and  sky  in  their 
natural  magnitude,  a  kind  of  nocturnal  painting 
by  means  of  color  we  have  witnessed  on  a  scale 
of  grandeur,  which  makes  every  portraiture 
on  canvas  seem  insignificant,  and  calls  up 
the  picture  gallery  of  the  future,  employing  the 
walls  and  canopy  of  the  real  heaven  whereon 
to  paint  man  and  his  works,  as  well  as  angels 
and  divinities. 

Why  should  not  a  million  eyes  at  the  next 
Chicago  World's  Fair  behold  the  Last  Judg- 
ment thrown  upon  the  skies  over  Lake  Michi- 
gan, and  witness  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
seated  literally  upon  the  clouds,  while  electric- 
ity, the  New  Lucifer,  or  light-bearer,  flashes 
over  the  waters  below,  and  transforms  the  bil- 
lows of  fire  like  unto  the  infernal  pit?  And 
the  very  cupola  of  the  heavens  above  could 
also  be  illuminated  with  the  forms  of  the  blessed 
in  Paradise  as  they  float  about  the  dome  of 
the  world's  cathedral.  Such  shapes  painting 
has  seized  upon  hitherto,  but  it  is  merely  the 
prophecy  of  grander  appearances.  Michael 
Angelo's  picture  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  would 


The  Influence  of  Color.  133 

then  reach  mightier  fulfillment.  In  fact,  the 
new  illustration  of  the  "Divine  Comedy"  will 
be  given  with  panoramic  reality  on  a  scale 
which  will  make  Dante  prophetic  of  the  new 
art. 

Why  should  not  the  human  form  be  produced 
upon  the  sky  before  a  million  spectators  by 
means  of  electrical  painting  with  its  own  per- 
spective and  color  ?  A  group  of  gigantic  forms 
we  can  easily  imagine  drawn  upon  this  celes- 
tial canvas.  Nay,  a  new  element  can  be  added 
to  such  a  style  of  painting,  namely,  movement. 
The  figures  or  groups  of  figures  can  be  made 
to  change  place  and  then  to  show  action  where- 
by the  spectable  becomes  dramatic ;  a  battle  can 
be  fought  upon  the  clouds  with  discharge  of 
artillery  and  explosion  of  missiles,  accompan- 
ied by  all  the  thunder  and  flashings  which  be- 
long to  such  a  scene.  In  such  vast  outlines,  a 
new  art  begins  to  show  itself  worthy  of  and  ad- 
equate to  the  colossal  works  of  man  in  the  West. 
Nothing  was  plainer  at  the  World's  Fair  than 
that  of  the  old  arts,  sculpture  and  painting  have 
become  historic,  and  must  ascend  into  a  newer 
and  more  universal  art.  Limit  breaking  is 
the  spirit  here,  taking  the  old  not  as  the  top 
of  the  ladder,  but  as  a  step  therein.  The  elec- 
tric artist  is  the  coming  Michael  Angelo!" 


GREAT  LITERATURE. 

Have  we  not,  each  one  of  us,  at  some  time  in 
oil"  lives,  been  thrown  into  the  companionship 
of  people  of  an  ignoble  type?  These  are  the 
people  who  belittle  everyone  of  whom  they 
speak,  who  suspect  each  genuine  deed  of  hav- 
ing a  selfish  motive  behind  it,  who,  in  fact, 
think  poorly  of  life  in  general  and  of  their 
immediate  surroundings  in  particular.  If  we 
have  been  conscious  of  our  own  inner  life,  at 
such  times,  we  have  felt  the  glory  fading  out 
of  it.  The  beautiful  enthusiasm  which  made  it 
a  joy  to  live  and  to  work  lessens  each  day  until, 
if  the  contact  continues  long  enough,  men  be- 
come mean,  and  life  seems  a  petty  thing  not 
worth  the  having. 

It  is  at  such  times  as  these  that  great  books 
become  our  refuge,  veritable  towers  of  salva- 
tion are  they.  For  are  they  not  the  voices  of 
great  souls  calling  to  us  to  come  out  of  the  fog 
of  pessimism?  They  still  speak  in  ringing 
tones  to  the  heart  that  longs  for  nobler  views 
134 


Great  Literature.  135 

of  life,  although  their  human  voices  were  si- 
lenced a  thousand  years  ago. 

Isaiah  spoke  not  only  to  despairing  Jerusa- 
lem but  to  every  despairing  soul  since  the  time 
when  the  -irresistible  hosts  of  Assyria  seemed 
ready  to  come  down  upon  God's  chosen  people 
"like  a  wolf  on  the  fold."  As  he  said  to  them, 
so  he  says  to  us,  "Fear  naught  while  the  Lord 
God  Jehovah  is  with  you  !"*  Homer  so  wrote 
that  he  portrayed  the  greater  Gods  not  only  as 
fighting  against  the  mercenary  hords  of  Asia, 
but  always  righting  on  the  side  of  right. 

The  great  poets  are  greater  than  the  great 
philosophers,  or  the  great  theologians  because 
they  embody  in  forms  of  beauty  or  forms  of 
hideousness  the  world  problems  that  are  as  old 
as  recorded  history  and  as  wide  as  the  life  of 
man.  They  give  us  living  and  everlasting  pic- 
tures of  human  lives  uplifted  and  exalted  by 
emotions  of  friendship,  love,  self-sacrifice  and 
service;  or  dragged  down  and  debased  by  the 
ignoble  passions  of  ambition,  greed,  hatred  and 
revenge.  They  do  not  deal  in  abstract  virtues 
and  vices,  but  with  service  or  sin  as  a  living 
issue  to  be  dealt  with  here  and  now,  in  our 


*  Dr.  George  Adam  Smith's  commentary  on  the  writings  of 
Isaiah  are  a  revelation  to  many  to  whom  Isaiah  had  been  a  sealed 
book. 


136  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

lives.  They  place  us  in  the  society  of  the  no- 
blest and  most  attractive  men  and  women  and 
open  before  us  the  loathsomeness  of  the  abyss 
in  which  sordid  and  debased  souls  dwell.  Thus 
we  can,  if  we  wish,  have  daily  inspiration  from 
and  daily  communion  with  the  mighty  men  of 
mighty  times.  For  each  great  world-poet  is  the 
child  of  a  great  era  and  expresses  in  the  high- 
est way  the  greatness  of  that  era. 

A  woman  who  had  done  much  thinking  as 
well  as  much  writing,  was  speaking  to  me  one 
day  about  a  problem  that  was  perplexing  her. 
The  winter  previous  we  had  together  studied 
Dante's  Divine  Comedy.  So  after  listening  to 
her  statement  of  the  difficulty  I  said,  "Do  you 
not  remember  how  Dante  explained  that  trait 
in  human-nature?"  "Yes,"  she  replied  in  a 
discouraged  tone,  "but  Dante  had  the  poet  Vir- 
gil with  whom  he  could  consult  at  any  moment. 
If  I  had  some  such  friend  I  would  not  make 
as  many  mistakes  as  I  do.  I  have  no  one  near 
me  upon  whose  judgment  I  can  rely."  I  looked 
up,  and  seeing  that  she  was  in  earnest  in  what 
she  said,  I  replied  "You  can  have  Virgil  for 
your  friend,  just  as  Dante  had  him.  You  have 
forgotten  that  twelve  hundred  years  intervened 
between  their  earthly  existence,  and  seven  hun- 


Great  Literature.  137 

dred  years  more  do  not  matter  much  when  it 
is  the  thought  of  a  great  mind  you  want  and 
not  the  bodily  presence."  A  dazed  expression 
came  over  her  face  for  a  moment,  then  with  a 
hearty  laugh  she  exclaimed,  "It  had  not  once 
occurred  to  me  that  Virgil  was  not  a  personal 
friend  of  Dante's.  He  makes  their  comradship 
so  real,  and  Virgil's  counsel  is  so  direct  that  I 
had  entirely  forgotten  that  they  were  not  con- 
temporaries !" 

I  have  related  this  incident  merely  to  show 
how  great  the  influence  of  a  really  great  book 
may  become.  It  is  of  such  books  that  Emerson 
is  thinking  when  he  says  "There  are  books  that 
rank  with  parents,  lovers  and  passionate  experi- 
ences." And  many  another  soul  among  us  can 
assert  that  some  one  book  has  quickened  his  or 
her  moral  will  to  do  the  dreaded  deed  requir- 
ing, moral  courage,  just  as  a  strong  friend 
might  have  done. 

I  know  another  woman  who  apparently  pos- 
sesses the  power  to  discover  the  best  that  is  in 
everyone  with  whom  she  comes  in  contact  and 
to  awaken  their  .talents,  whatever  they  may 
be.  She  counts  this  faculty  of  hers  not  as  a 
special  endowment,  but  says,  "From  my  earliest 
childhood  I  was  brought  up  among  giants  and 


138  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

genii,  among  prophets  and  priests,  and  kings 
and  queens.  Stories  from  the  Bible,  The  Ara- 
bian Night  Tales,  and  the  fairy  tales  of  the 
Teutonic  race  were  constantly  read  to  me  until 
I  was  old  enough  to  read  and  re-read  them  for 
myself.  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  come 
in  contact  with  a  low,  or  a  mean  book  during 
my  child  life.  Thus  I  came  to  maturity  believ- 
ing in  the  greatness  of  human  nature,  and  en- 
tered the  outside  world  expecting  to  meet  giants 
and  genii,  prophets  and  priests,  kings  and 
queens,  and  I  have  never  been  disappointed." 

There  is  scarcely  a  well  read  man  or  woman 
in  America  of  the  passing  generation  who 
cannot  remember  the  awakening  which  Emer- 
son gave  to  him  or  her.  What  a  quickening 
Ruskin  brought  to  our  hearts!  And  Carlyle! 
How  his  hatred  of  shames  has  been  burned  into 
the  inmost  recesses  of  our  souls! 

This  brings  us  naturally  to  the  classification 
of  books  according  to  the  length  of  time  their 
influence  lasts,  or,  when  we  get  among  the 
great  books,  the  mountain  peaks  of  literature, 
the  number  of  centuries  they  have  spoken  to 
the  children  of  men.  No  book  can  be  pro- 
nounced really  great  until  it  has  stood  the  time's 
test  for  at  least  a  hundred  years.  There  are 


Great  Literature.  139 

books  that  amuse  and  entertain  us;  then  there 
are  books  that  inform  and  instruct  us;  again 
there  are  books  that  awaken  and  strengthen  our 
sympathies,  and  last  of  all  there  are  books  that 
inspire  our  highest  endeavor  by  lifting  us  up 
to  a  clearer  vision  of  the  true  meaning  of  life, 
and  by  making  us  conscious  of  the  God-Pres- 
ence in  the  commonest  affairs  of  life,  not  the- 
ologically, but  vitally.  There  is  not  space  here 
to  speak  at  length  of  the  value  of  each  of  these 
classes  of  books.  The  entertaining  books  come 
to  us  as  do  bright  breezy  acquaintances  with 
the  news  of  the  day,  a  droll  story,  a  pretty  bit 
of  word  painting,  a  pleasant  thought  or  per- 
chance a  touch  of  pathos  that  stirs  our  hearts 
and  is  gone.  They  are  read,  perhaps  discussed, 
passed  on  and  then  forgotten.  Often  times  they 
serve  to  rest  a  weary  brain,  cheer  a  gloomy  day, 
or  help  to  while  away  a  tedious  hour  of  wait- 
ing. There  is  a  higher  class  that  quickens  our 
sympathies  and  gives  us  glimpses  of  a  larger 
world  than  the  one  in  which  we  chance  to  live. 
The  better  novels  belong  to  this  class.  I  have 
an  invalid  friend  .  who  says  she  picks  up  a 
volume  of  Dickens  whenever  life  begins  to  seem 
unendurable  and  soon  forgets  her  aches  and 
pains  in  the  delightful  world  into  which  she  is 


140  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

thus  introduced.  Nor  are  we  to  ignore  tha 
value  of  that  class  of  books  which  brings  to 
us  their  author's  power  of  seeing  the  beautiful 
in  nature.  Whoever  has  read  Hamilton 
Mabie  "Under  the  Trees,"  has  felt  an  added 
freshness  in  the  morning  air.  No  one  can  read 
John  Van  Dyke's  "The  Desert,"  and  ever  again 
think  of  a  desert  as  a  dreary  place  of  ugliness. 
Thomas  Starr  King  has  made  even  the  moun- 
tain heights  more  beautiful  because  he  has  writ- 
ten for  us  how  he  has  seen  them.  In  fact  there 
are  writers  on  nature  who  cause  every  bush  to 
flame  with  fire  revealing  the  Divine  presence. 
Let  us  take  gratefully  all  such  help  to  see  and 
to  feel  the  beauty  of  nature,  as  we  would  borrow 
the  eyes  of  the  artist  when  we  go  into  a  picture 
gallery  and  take  with  us  the  ears  of  the  musi- 
cian when  we  listen  to  the  mystic  music  of  the 
great  composers.  The  interpreters  and  com- 
mentators have  their  place  and  it  is  no  mean 
place.  The  great  ones  among  them  are,  in 
truth,  teachers  and  leaders  of  men.  Of  books  of 
travel,  histories  and  scientific  volumes  there  is 
no  need  to  speak  here.  Our  schools  and  uni- 
versities will  see  to  it  that  they  are  not  forgot- 
ten, until,  indeed,  fresher  and  better  books 
of  travel  and  history  and  science  take  their 
places. 


Great  Literature.  141 

Still  none  of  these  could  be  classed  as  Great 
Literature.  That  alone  is  great  which  helps  to 
reveal  to  man  the  true  nature  of  his  inner 
world.  All  things  that  pertain  to  the  outer 
world,  wealth,  health,  beauty,  position,  rank, 
talent,  influences,  friends,  even  love  itself  can 
only  be  called  of  great  value  when  they  admin- 
ister to  the  growth  of  the  spiritual  nature.  This 
is  no  theoretic  statement,  but  a  practical  reality, 
an  easily  verified  fact.  Take  any  one,  or  most 
of  these  gifts  and  put  with  it  a  mean,  sordid 
spirit  and  at  once  how  insignificant,  aye,  even 
contemptible  they  become.  The  things  of  time 
are  transitory,  like  the  grass  of  the  field,  which 
is  today  and  tomorrow  is  cast  into  the  oven. 
This  becomes  more  evident  when  we  take  a 
larger  view  and  study  the  race  development 
and  not  merely  that  of  an  individual.  All  the 
Great  Eras  of  Art  came  when  the  artists  were 
filled  within  with  exalted  ideals,  and  the  world 
about  them  expressed  worship  through  art 
channels.  So  all  Great  Eras  of  History  have 
been  the  record  o.f  Titanic  spiritual  struggles 
of  whole  peoples  to  free  themselves  from  exist- 
ing bondages  to  external  things.  Why  has  the 
little  town  of  Jerusalem  remained  great  while 
the  mighty  cities  of  Ninevah  and  Babylon,  of 


142  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Tyre  and  Sodom  have  passed  away  ?  Why  were 
the  Greeks  great  and  the  Medes  and  Persians 
compared  to  them  of  little  historic  value?  All 
through  history  the  story  is  the  same.  Even 
all-powerful  Rome  became  a  contempt  and  a 
by-word  when  her  Emperors  and  her  people 
forgot  the  inner  integrity  that  belonged  to  the 
true  Roman.  The  greatest  example  of  all  time, 
however,  is  the  power  and  majesty  and  growth 
of  the  Christian  religion  which  is  based  entirely 
upon  the  inner  conditions  of  a  man's  own  soul, 
and  not  at  all  upon  his  external  circumstances. 
Therefore,  literature  is  only  Great  Literature 
when  it  is  inspired  by  this  view  of  life :  Then 
the  soul  of  the  writer  saw  so  clearly  the  inter- 
nally beautiful  that  he  expressed  his  thoughts 
in  forms  of  beauty  adequate  to  his  vision 
so  that  they  in  turn  inspire  the  reader  with 
the  same  exalted  view.  Literature  then  be- 
comes an  art,  Art  in  the  highest  sense.  In  such 
literature  no  moralizing  is  needed.  The  beauti- 
ful words  image  forms  of  beauty  that  speak 
for  themselves,  just  as  beautiful  scenery  calms 
the  troubled  heart,  or  beautiful  music  soothes 
the  troubled  soul.  With  this  difference,  how- 
ever, that  in  beautiful  scenery  we  have  only  the 
silent  expression  of  dumb  nature,  and  in  beau- 


Great  Literature.  143 

tiful  music  we  have  oftentimes  an  inexplain- 
able  appeal  to  the  unconscious  emotions,  where- 
as in  Great  Literature  we  have  the  highest  con- 
scious life  of  man. 

By  the  universal  consent  of  the  scholars  and 
artists  of  all  time  and  places,  Homer,  Dante, 
Shakespeare  and  Goethe  have  been  conceded  to 
be  the  four  great  ivorld-poets.  The  first  gave 
joyous  expression  to  the  great  Greek  world  of 
gladness  and  beauty,  art  and  philosophy.  It 
was  in  the  world's  young  days  when  the  race 
was  first  awakening  to  its  freedom  and  its 
power.  The  world  has  never  had  such  an  era 
since,  nor  has  it  ever  again  had  such  a  poet  as 
Homer.  The  second  was  the  voice  that  ut- 
tered the  struggling,  striving,  longing  prayer 
of  the  middle  ages  and  the  world  has  never 
since  witnessed  such  religious  aspirations,  nor 
has  it  ever  again  had  such  a  priest  as  Dante. 
The  third  was  the  hand  that  built  the  ethical 
foundations  on  which  have  rested  the  modern 
institutional  world  as  no  courts  of  law  could 
have  shaped  them.  The  age  in  which  he  lived 
discovered  new  continents,  established  new 
kingdoms,  created  the  state  as  a  thing  apart 
from  the  church,  and  the  world  has  never 
known  such  an  expansion  since,  nor  has  it 


144  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

brought  forth  another  Shakespeare.  The  fourth 
was  the  eye  that  pierced  all  outer  forms  and 
traditions  and  saw  the  naked  soul  of  man,  man 
as  a  self-determining,  limit  transcending  be- 
ing. The  great  revolutionizing  world-thought 
that  brought  forth  Swedenborg,  Hahnemann, 
Beethoven,  Kant,  Fitche,  Schelling,  Hegel, 
Froebel  and  a  host  of  others,  centralized  itself 
at  Weimar  and  brought  forth  Goethe.  We 
have  not  yet  half  comprehended  the  marvelous 
insight  of  this  prophet  of  the  future. 

We  may  expect,  therefore,  to  find  in  these 
four  great  world-poets  the  highest  views  of  life 
expressed  in  the  most  beautiful  forms.  For 
great  as  is  the  beauty  of  diction,  the  purity  of 
language  and  the  richness  of  imagination  to  be 
found  in  the  writings  of  each  of  these  Masters 
of  form,  still  after  all  it  is  their  content  not 
their  form  that  leads  us  to  see  from  their 
heights,  the  true  meaning  of  life. 

These  are  the  great  epoch-making  books 
which  never  grow  old,  which  have  stirred  the 
hearts  of  a  hundred  generations  and  which 
will  stir  the  hearts  of  generations  yet  to  come. 
To  know  one  of  these  great  books  thoroughly 
is  not  only  to  know  a  hundred  lesser  books 
which  have  sprung  from  it,  but  to  know  human 


Great  Literature.  145 

nature  better  than  most  of  us  would  understand 
it  in  a  lifetime  of  effort.  For  they  strike,  each 
of  them,  at  the  very  springs  of  man's  spiritual 
life. 

Let  us  take  the  poems  of  Homer  for  example. 
At  first  we  are  attracted  by  the  stately  music  of 
his  hexameters.  Then  comes,  to  the  scholar, 
the  fascination  of  his  exquisite  use  of  language. 
The  charm  of  his  phrases  defy  the  translator, 
and  some  color  is  lost  in  even  the  best  copies 
of  modern  scholars.  Yet,  after  all,  Homer 
has  been  translated  and  still  remains  the  great 
joy-loving  heart,  conscious  of  the  presence  of 
his  gods  and  of  their  concern  in  the  affairs  of 
men.  No  hero,  however  noble,  no  demigogue, 
however  base,  that  the  gods  do  not  read  his 
inmost  soul  and  reward  or  punish  him  accord- 
ingly. Do  we  not  feel  the  fresh  breezes  of  the 
Greek  world ;  the  vigor  and  physical  activity  of 
its  heroes,  who  can  banquet  three  times  in  a 
single  night  and  fight  all  the  next  day  ?  Their 
fearless  courage  and  astonishing  bodily  dexter- 
ity bring  to  us  the  freshness  and  daring  of 
youth  as  we  watch  them  hurl  javelins  formed 
from  the  trunks  of  young  trees ;  guide  with  one 
hand  their  plunging  chariot  horses ;  seize  their 
ships  and  drag  them  up  onto  the  shore;  battle 


146  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

for  whole  days  amid  the  angry  waves  of  the 
sea;  be  dashed  ashore  by  Neptune,  yet  spring 
up  again  as  fresh  and  vigorous  as  ever.  The 
very  atmosphere  is  stimulating.  It  is  the  joy- 
ous vital  living  that  comes,  that  must  come, 
when  Olympus  is  not  far  away  and  the  laugh- 
ter-loving gods  are  man's  familiar  friends. 

If  a  hero  faltered  the  gods  strengthened  his 
limbs  and  put  courage  into  his  heart.  His  re- 
ligion was  a  very  real  thing  to  Homer,  and  he 
makes  his  reader  feel  that  after  all  it  is  the 
God-element  in  or  with  man  that  counts  for 
victory,  or  for  happiness.  And  yet  this  con- 
sciousness of  the  God-Presence  is  not  awesome. 
It  is  uplifting,  encouraging,  inspiring  to  great 
deeds — but  not  solemn  nor  sad.  The  very  gods 
loved  the  air  and  the  sunshine.  In  these  days, 
when  farms  and  villages  are  being  deserted  and 
the  blue  sky  above  the  hill-tops  is  being  ex- 
changed for  the  black  smoke  above  the  cities; 
when  bodily  exercise  has  ceased  to  be  the  free 
spontaneous  sport  of  the  people  and  has  been 
relegated  to  trained  specialists  who  exhibit  for 
our  excitement;  when  most  of  our  pleasures 
are  indoor  entertainments  and  our  lives  become 
jaded  and  weary  before  we  reach  middle  ages ; 
has  not  Homer  something  to  suggest  in  mere  at- 
mospheric conditions  ? 


Great  Literature.  147 

When  we  come  to  the  study  of  character  the 
great  Greek  gives  us  more  real  characters  than 
we  meet  with  in  the  every-day  contact  with  men 
and  women.  The  people  about  us  are  clothed 
with  customs,  reserves  and  artificialities  which 
oftentimes  disguise  the  real  man  or  woman. 
But  in  the  great  books  of  the  world  genius 
pierces  through  all  outside  conventionalities  and 
concealments  and  shows  us  the  motive  of  ac- 
tions, oftentimes  leading  us  unerringly  into  the 
inmost  recesses  of  some  struggling  soul.  We 
see  heroes  not  only  overcoming  external  ob- 
stacles but  conquering  internal  defects.  Some- 
times the  inner  battle  is  so  vividly  portrayed 
that  our  hearts  cry  out,  "It  is  I  of  whom  he  is 
speaking.  These  are  my  struggles  and  my 
defects!" 

In  his  Iliad  with  what  simplicity  and  yet  with 
what  wonderful  skill  he  gives  us  the  bitterness 
with  which  ability  fights  against  the  authority 
that  is  over  it  until  it  learns  the  great  les- 
son of  self-control  and  the  greater  one  of  tol- 
erance! We  see  Achilles,  the  proud  man,  con- 
scious of  his  own  superiority,  arrogant  in  his 
own  integrity,  rising  up  in  his  wrath  to  sweep 
away  a  wrong  which  has  been  committed 
against  the  priest  Calchas  by  the  violent  reten- 


148  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

tion  of  his  daughter  Briseis.  What  cared  he 
if  the  wrong-doer  was  Agamemnon,  the  King, 
chosen  by  all  the  Greek  hosts  to  be  their  leader  ? 
Shall  he,  the  man  of  courage,  stand  lamely  by 
and  see  this  thing  done?  He  sees  no  need  of 
tact  on  his  part.  Nor  does  he  exercise  the 
great  virtue  of  patience.  Is  not  he  the  hero 
greater  than  Agammenon  the  King?  Can  the 
Greeks  conquer  without  him?  In  his  heart 
there  is  a  scorn  for  all  his  comrades,  as  well  as 
a  fierce  rage  against  Agamemnon.  He  has  in- 
wardly separated  himself  from  all  the  rest  of 
his  world.  He,  and  he  alone,  is  right.  His 
egotism  has  blinded  him.  What  is  the  result? 
Can  we  not  predict  it  from  lesser  experiences  of 
our  own  ?  Have  we  not  come  in  contact  with  it 
in  every  society  organization  with  which  we 
have  been  connected?  The  blunt  self-assertive 
man  who  undertakes  to  set  things  right  accord- 
ing to  his  notion  of  right,  regardless  of  every- 
one else.  The  race  has  coined  its  experience 
of  such  a  condition  of  mind  into  the  adage, 
"Pride  goes  before  a  fall."  If  we  are  clear- 
minded  philosophers  we  know  that  it  is  a  viola- 
tion of  a  great  spiritual  law.  Old  Homer  gives 
us  this  same  thought  in  a  most  highly  dramatic 
scene,  one  not  easy  to  be  forgotten.  Out  of 


Great  Literature.  149 

the  blue  sky  above  swept  down  the  white-robed 
Pallas  Athene.  Murder  is  in  her  hero's  heart. 
She  seizes  him  by  his  yellow  hair.  And  sud- 
denly he  turns  to  see  who  has  dared  thus  to 
interrupt  his  wrath.  Her  awful-gleaming  eyes 
look  into  his.  Her  winged-words  come  to  his 
ear  alone.  Nor  is  she  seen  by  any  of  the 
trembling  hosts  around.  He  hesitates,  and 
then — 

"On  the  silver  hilt  he  stayed 
His  strong  right  hand,  and  back  into  its  sheath 
Thrust  his  good  sword,  obeyingly." 

The  impulse  to  angry  murder  is  checked  by 
divine  help.  But  Achilles  is  very  human  and 
we  can  see  the  proud  toss  of  his  head  and  hear 
the  defiant  ring  in  his  voice  as  he  administers 
the  petulant  words  of  rebuke  to  his  chief.  There 
is  still  no  respect  for  human  authority  nor  for 
the  organization  which  gave  the  authority:  no 
forbearance  toward  his  commander  because  he 
is  his  elder ;  no  seeking  of  counsel  with  Nestor 
or  Ulysses  as  to  how  the  evil  may  be  undone. 
He  is  Achilles.  What  need  has  he  of  advice 
from  other  men?  So  harshly  and  arrogantly 
he  utters  the  words  — 

"Wine-bidder  with  the  forehead  of  a  dog 
and  a  deer's  heart !  Thou  dost  rule  a  spiritless 
race,  else  this  day,  Atrides,  were  thy  last!" 


150  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Then  comes  the  famous  quarrel  scene,  and 
Achilles  returns  sulkily  to  his  tent.     A  long 
and  bitter  experience  awaits  him.    He  has  shut 
himself  away  from  human  sympathy  and  in  his 
anguish  of  heart  he  feels  that  no  one  under- 
stands him,  that  there  is  no  justice  on  earth  and 
"From  his  friends  withdrawing,  sat 
Beside  the  hoary  oceans  marge,  and  gazed 
On  the  black  deep  beyond  and  stretched  his 
hands, 

And  prayed " 

The  desolate  heart  turns  ever  to  the  Divine 
for  the  consolation  denied  by  man.    And,  ac- 
cording to  Homer,  the  Divine  ever  responds. 
Thetis,  his  goddess-mother  heard  his  cry 
"Swiftly  from  the  waves 
Of  the  gray  deep  emerging  like  a  cloud, 
She  sat  beside  him  as  he  wept,  and  smoothed 
His  brow  with  her  soft  hand,  and  kindly  said, 
'My  child,  why  weepest  thou  ?    What  grief  is 

this? 
Speak  and  hide  nothing,  so  that  both  may 

know.'  " 

Could  the  love  of  God  for  sorrowing  man 
be  pictured  more  tenderly  than  this?  Contrast 
it  with  some  of  the  stern  merciless  pictures 
drawn  by  our  Puritan  forefathers,  and  you  will 


Great  Literature*  151 

then  understand  why  Homer  has  lived  fhree 
thousand  years,  while  the  theological  controver- 
sies have  been  forgotten.  The  human  heart 
hungers  for  Divine  love,  and  the  highest  in- 
sight shows  us  that  love,  even  in  the  punishment 
which  must  be  administered.*  The  wisest 
love  is  that  which  does  not  shield  its  loved  one 
from  the  just  return  of  deed  upon  the  doer's 
head. 

Achilles  had  separated  himself  from  his  peo- 
ple. He  must  now  be  taught  a  much-needed 
lesson.  The  goddess-mother  may  soothe  and 
comfort  him  with  her  tender  sympathies.  But 
Zeus  will  not  interfere  until  the  needed  discip- 
line has  schooled  the  proud  heart.  Through  a 
long  and  bitter  experience  our  hero  learns  that 
Achilles  championing  the  Greek  hosts  in  their 
struggle  to  establish  the  sacredness  of  family 
relations,  is  one  man,  while  Achilles  sulking 
uselessly  in  his  tent  is  another.  It  is  a  splendid 
lesson  given  for  all  times  and  all  conditions  of 
men — Service  alone  can  make  us  of  any  value — 
ceasing  to  serve,  we  cease  to  be  valuable.  It  is 
a  hard  lesson  for  a  proud  soul  to  learn! 
Haughtily  Achilles  rejects  the  apology  and  of- 

*  Students  of  Froebel's  "  Mother-Play-Songs  "  recognize  this 
same  kind  of  love  is  set  forth  in  the  nursery  play  of  '  Falling, 
Falling." 


152  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

fer  of  restitution  which  the  now  penitent  Aga- 
memnon sends  to  him  by  the  hands  of  his  three 
best  friends.  Then  comes  the  death  of  Pat- 
rochus!  Like  many  another  man  of  iron  will 
Achilles  is  softened  by  contact  with  death's  in- 
exorable mystery.  In  its  presence  the  minor 
jangles  and  jars  of  life  cease  to  be  important. 
He  rises,  exclaiming: 
"Yet  now,  though  great  my  wrong,  let  things 

like  these 

Rest  with  the  past,  and  as  the  time  requires, 
Let  us  subdue  the  spirit  in  our  breasts." 

His  sorrow  puts  him  in  touch  with  the  sor- 
rowing hosts.  His  wrath  mingles  with  their 
wrath.  The  Greek  cause  becomes  more  than 
his  personal  resentment.  Achilles  is  again  the 
hero.  Strong  in  his  self-conquest  he  strides 
forth  to  conquer.  As  in  the  Hebrew  record  the 
face  of  Moses  shone  with  a  supernatural  radi- 
ance after  his  solitary  conference  with  the  Di- 
vine, so  now  a  flame  of  fire  is  seen  by  the  enemy 
to  surround  the  head  of  Achilles.  He  shouts 
aloud  and  the  sound  of  his  voice  strikes  ter- 
ror to  the  Trojan  hearts.  We  need  not  speak 
of  the  wonderful  shield  which  his  goddess- 
mother  brings  to  him, — save  that  it  had  carved 
upon  it  the  activities  of  all  mankind.  He  is 


Great  Literature.  153 

fighting  now  for  all  humanity.  Hector,  his 
chief  opponent,  is  slain.  He  has  conquered  his 
enemy — but  he  is  very  human,  he  has  not  yet 
entirely  subdued  himself.  He  has  yet  to  learn 
the  meaning  of  those  words,  "He  that  con- 
quereth  himself  is  mightier  than  he  who  taketh 
a  city."  He,  around  whose  brow  had  played 
the  supernatural  light,  now  so  utterly  forgets 
himself  that  he  insults  the  body  of  the  dead 
and  gloats  over  the  suffering  of  the  living.  And 
yet,  Achilles  is  not  a  bad  man — he  is  an  angry 
man,  and  we  see  all  the  pitiable  impotency  of 
rage,  all  the  more  pitiful  in  that  it  is  the  lapse 
of  a  great  soul.  The  deep,  tender,  confiding 
appeal  of  the  aged  Priam  to  be  allowed  to  carry 
away  for  burial  the  body  of  his  beloved  son, 
melts  Achilles  to  tears,  and  the  closing  book  of 
the  Iliad  is,  perhaps,  after  all  its  most  sublime 
one. 

No  moralizing  is  needed.  Throughout  the 
ages  the  great  picture  has  stood.  The  strong 
tender-hearted  but  too  proud  hero,  struggling 
with,  fighting  against,  and  suffering  from  deeds 
which  his  own  untamed  will  has  brought  about. 
Is  not  the  statue,  chisled  in  heroic  size,  worthy 
of  our  study  ? 

Numerous  and  striking  as  the  character  stud- 


154  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ies  offered  by  the  less  prominent  personages 
who  surround  the  hero.  It  is  the  drama  of 
life  revealed  by  the  hand  of  genius!  And  the 
heart  of  humanity  has  been  hardened  to  indig- 
nation or  softened  to  pity  as  the  play  has  been 
unfolded.  For  in  each  act  and  scene  the  upper 
and  the  lower  world  are  felt  to  interplay  one 
upon  the  other,  and  it  is  the  inner  life  of  this 
or  that  character  that  has  exalted  or  debased 
him.  Although  it  is  a  drama  of  war  and  blood- 
shed. Its  leading  'motif  has  been  the  God-with- 
out speaking  to  the  God-within  man's  breast, 
or  the  God-within  appealing  to  the  God-with- 
out. The  latest  psychological  researches  have 
given  us  no  greater  insight  than  this  inter-play 
between  the  unseen  and  supernatural  and  the 
seen  and  natural.  Nor  has  the  dogma  of  the 
church  a  finer  faith  to  offer. 

Who  can  read  the  story  of  Ulysses,  of  his 
long  and  weary  wanderings,  of  his  temptations 
and  his  mistakes  and  not  be  made  the  wiser 
for  the  lessons  which  experience  taught  this 
"Man  of  many  sorrows."  And  yet  it  is  not 
merely  the  man,  Ulysses,  whose  trials  and  trib- 
ulations hold  us.  It  is  seeing  beyond  the  earth- 
ly scene  into  the  councils  of  the  gods  concern- 
ing the  discipline  needed  for  the  folly  of  man- 


Great  Literature.  155 

kind.  In  almost  the  first  scene  in  the  Odyssey 
the  key-note  of  the  whole  book  is  struck  when 
at  an  assembly  of  all  the  Gods  of  note  one  rises 
that  regards  not  the  rights  of  man  nor  God, 
and  exclaims — 

"How  strange  it  is  that  mortals  blame  the  Gods 
And  say  that  we  inflict  the  ills  they  bear, 
When  they,  by  their  own  folly  and  against 
The  will  of  fate,  brings  sorrow  on  themselves." 
Then  goes  forward  this  matchless  story  of 
sin  and  folly  and  the  inevitable  punishment 
which  must  follow, — no  sermonizing,  no  mor- 
alizing, simply  a  series  of  marvelously  telling 
pictures,  perfect  in  every  detail  of  each  story. 
For,  after  all,  it  is  a  series  of  fascinating  won- 
der-tales rather  than  a  set  of  pictures.  Half 
the  fairy  tales  of  later  ages  can  be  traced  back 
to  their  fountain  head  in  the  Odyssey.  The 
characters  met  by  Ulysses,  the  experiences  he 
underwent  have  become  universal  types  in  all 
literature.  How  many  a  dalliance  with  duty 
has  been  pictured  by  the  Island  of  Calypso? 
Who  has  not  tried  to  sail  midway  between 
Scylla  and  Charybdis?  Alas,  alas,  how  many 
have  heard  the  songs  of  the  sirens  and  have 
fallen  victims  to  their  wiles.  Where  could  be 
found  a  better  picture  of  sordid  brutal  greed, 


156  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

than  the  one-eyed  monster  Polyphemus?  And 
Proteus — who  has  not  met  with  the  thousand- 
formed  Proteus,  changing,  turning,  twisting, 
now  beautiful,  now  loathsome,  now  terrible  yet 
underneath  it  all  the  same-old-man-of-the-sea  ? 
And  he  who  would  conquer  must  persistently 
hold  on !  And  Circe,  the  subtle,  luxury-loving 
beguiling  Circe!  Who  has  ever  pictured  her 
like?  The  long  enduring  Penelope  has  re- 
mained throughout  all  times  the  type  of  the 
faithful  but  sorely  tried  wife.  Where  do  we 
find  home-life  pictured  more  ideally  than  in  the 
land  of  the  Pheacians?  Nausicaa  is  ever  the 
fairest,  most  lovable  of  innocent  maidens,  while 
the  dignity  and  equality  accorded  to  Areta,  the 
beloved  wife  and  honored  mother,  has  not  yet 
become  a  realized  fact  in  modern  society, — Old 
Homer  has  something  to  teach  the  most  ad- 
vanced reformers  of  today — even  in  practical 
affairs — so  far-reaching  is  the  eye  of  genius ! 

The  perfect  art  of  the  Master  shines  out 
nowhere  more  brilliantly  than  when  we  study 
the  perfect  setting  which  he  has  given  to  each 
being  he  created.  Nothing  is  lacking.  The 
sirens  whose  empty  flattery  beguiles  the  passer- 
by are  on  barren  shores  of  sand  with  bleaching 
bones  and  grinning  skulls  behind  them  to  tell 


Great  Literature.  157 

the  deadly  nature  of  their  work.  Scylla  and 
Charybdis  are  placed  in  the  narrows  of  a  surg- 
ing sea — whose  whirling  waves  have  swallowed 
up  many  an  unwary  mariner — Proteus  appears 
amid  slippery  sea-calves  covered  with  sea-slime 
on  the  shore  of  an  island,  every  detail  of  his 
surroundings  indicates  the  difficulty  of  holding 
on  to  him  until  he  tells  his  secret.  What  could 
be  a  more  fitting  abode  for  the  wild  and  beauti- 
ful Calypso,  with  her  passionate  love,  than  the 
scene  which  greets  Hermes,  the  messenger  sent 
from  Olympus  by  the  gods. 
"Forth  from  the  dark-blue  sea  swell  he  stepped 
Upon  the  sea-beach,  walking  till  he  came 
To  the  vast  cave  in  which  the  bright-haired 

nymph 

Made  her  abode.  He  found  the  nymph  within : 
A  fire  blazed  brightly  on  the  hearth,  and  far 
Was  wafted  o'er  the  isle  the  fragrant  smoke 
Of  cloven  cedar,  burning  in  the  flame, 
And  cypress-wood.  Meanwhile  in  her  recess 
She  sweetly  sang,  as  busily  she  threw 
The  Golden  shuttle  through  the  web  she  wove. 
And  all  about  the  grotto  alders  grew, 
And  poplars,  and  sweet  smelling  cypresses. 
In  a  green  forest  high  among  whose  boughs 
Birds  of  broad  wings,  wood-owls  and  falcons 
built 


158  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Their  nests,  and  crows,  with  voices  sounding 
far, 

All  haunting  for  their  food  the  ocean  side. 

A  vine  with    downy  leaves    and    clustering 
grapes, 

Crept  over  all  the  cavern  rock." 
Around  were  meadows  overgrown  with  vio- 
lets and  other  wild  flowers,  and  brooks  of  glit- 
tering water  were  to  be  seen  here  and  there. 
Altogether  it  was  an  enchanting  woodland  spot, 
free  from  the  touch  of  civilized  man.  Con- 
trast this  with  the  environment  which  sur- 
rounds the  subtle  but  false-hearted  Circe.  She 
dwells  in  the  midst  of  a  large  park  where 
tamed  wolves  and  lions  fawned  like  dogs  upon 
the  approaching  visitors.  Her  dwelling  place 
is  a  marble  palace  with  shining  doors;  her 
guests  are  seated  on  silver-studded  thrones  with 
curiously  wrought  foot-stools  beneath  their 
feet,  and  they  are  served  from  goblets  of  gold. 
Still  through  all  this  oriental  luxury  there  is  an 
air  of  mystery  which  foretells  the  coming 
treachery.  Whereas  in  the  surroundings  of  the 
charming  and  innocent  Nausicaa  we  see  and 
feel  the  belongings  of  a  rich  and  well-appointed 
but  perfectly  normal  home,  such  as  well  be- 
fitted a  princess  of  royal  blood.  The  walls 


Great  Literature.  159 

within  the  palace  were  of  brass  with  cornices 
of  blue  steels.  The  doors  were  of  gold  with 
lintels  of  silver ;  carved  statues  of  gold  and  sil- 
ver representing  mastiffs  stood  at  the  doorway, 
and  the  banquet  hall  is  lighted  by  slender  forms 
of  boys  in  gold  holding  blazing  torches  in  their 
hands;  while  over  the  chairs  and  beds  are 
thrown  beautifully  woven  tapestry,  whose  "well 
wrought  tissues  glistened  as  with  oil."  Spac- 
ious grounds  surround  the  home  of  this  art- 
loving,  cultured  family;  well-ordered  orchards 
and  flower-beds  are  to  be  seen  in  the  rear — and 
yet  the  description  of  the  home  life  within  is 
so  charming  that  one  forgets  the  belongings, 
feeling  only  that  they  are  befitting  for  such  a 
family.  A  whole  volume  might  be  written  about 
the  skill  with  which  Homer — like  each  of  the 
other  great  world-poets — has  made  the  setting 
of  his  characters  reflect  their  inner  condition. 
This  is  the  poets'  way  of  expressing  that  great 
truth  that  each  one  of  us  in  reality  makes  the 
world  in  which  we  live.  What  brings  discon- 
tent or  misery  to  one  man  brings  joy  and 
thanksgiving  to  another.  Not  that  the  outer 
conditions  change  in  the  least,  but  joy  or  sor- 
row come  because  the  one  man  sees  and  uses 
these  outer  conditions  in  a  different  way  from 


160  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

the  other.  We  all  know  this  to  be  true,  but  we 
are  not  all  willing  to  accept  in  our  own  cases 
this  doctrine  of  free  will. 

Herein  lies  the  superiority  of  great  poetry 
over  great  philosophical  statement.  The  one 
gives  to  us  the  telling  picture  which  appeals 
to  us  and  which  unconsciously  convinces  with- 
out argument.  The  other  presents  to  us  the 
hard  dogma  which  we  too  often  rebel  against. 
The  one  is  right  and  wrong  embodied  in  hu- 
man lives,  the  other  is  right  and  wrong  ab- 
stracted from  human  life.  And  throughout  the 
poet's  song  is  the  ever-present  God-element, 
guiding,  governing  and  inspiring  mankind. 
This  is  why  the  greatest  of  all  teachers  are  the 
great  poets.  And  yet,  they  stand  silent  and 
unheeded  in  the  libraries  of  many  a  man  and 
woman  whose  soul  is  crying  out,  "More  light ! 
Give  me  more  light !" 


Let  us  now  turn  to  Dante,  the  second  of  the 
great  world-poets. 

Like  Homer,  he  centers  his  poem  around 
one  heroic  individual — rather  than  weakly  scat- 
ters it  among  many,  but  to  that  one  heroic 
individual  corne  the  temptations  and  trials  of 


Great  Literature.  161 

mankind.  Both  poems  begin  with  the  hero  as 
estranged  or  far  from  that  for  which  he  longs. 

Ulysses  is  alone  on  Calypso's  sea-girt  island, 
longing  for  his  home  and  native  land.  Dante 
awakes  alone  in  the  midst  of  a  dark  woods, 
and  knows  not  the  path  of  return  to  the  sun- 
light. Is  not  the  key-note  to  all  great  literature, 
all  great  music,  all  great  living  the  longing  for 
an  unattained  ideal,  the  struggle  to  attain  it, 
or  with  the  tragedy  of  turning  away  from 
this  ideal?  It  is  true  that  in  external  forms 
the  two  poems  differ  as  much  as  do  a  Greek 
temple  and  a  Gothic  cathedral,  but  the  inner 
spiritual  content  of  each  is  to  show  the  dis- 
cipline through  which  an  heroic  soul  that  has 
become  estranged  is  brought  back  to  home  and 
peace  with  God.  Punishment  must  purify  the 
soul  until  each  can  descend  into  the  eternal 
condition  of  things,  dropping  for  the  time  be- 
ing all  external  views  of  life.  It  is  seeing 
things  as  they  are  in  the  sight  of  God,  not 
as  they  are  estimated  by  men,  that  makes  of 
the  great  poems  "vicarious  experiences"  for  all 
mankind.  It  is  the  infinite  in  any  effort  that 
makes  it  universal. 

In  entering  upon  the  study  of  the  Divine 
Comedy,  we  leave  the  free  out-of-doors  at- 


162  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

mosphere  of  Homer  and  enter  the  vast 
cathedral  which  a  great  suffering  soul  has  built. 
It  is  vaster  and  more  solemnly  beautiful  than 
any  of  the  Gothic  cathedrals  that  Europe  can 
show.  In  fact  Dante's  "Divine  Comedy"  was 
the  source  and  inspiration  of  much  of  the  mys- 
tic art  that  has  made  the  middle  ages  so  pro- 
lific of  weird  beauty.  In  the  midst  of  a  fanat- 
ically religious  age  he  was  the  one  great  priest 
who  voiced  the  universal  nature  of  sin  and  re- 
demption. Kings  and  popes  are  to  be  found 
in  his  inferno,  and  noble  heathens  mingle  with 
the  redeemed  saints.  With  him  God  was  a  God 
of  Righteousness,  not  a  God  of  the  Church; — 
and  man  made  his  own  heaven  or  hell — not- 
withstanding the  ecclesiastical  form  of  his  great 
poem.  It  is  the  mistaking  of  the  form  of  his 
poem  for  its  content  that  makes  the  impatient 
critic  ask,  "Of  what  possible  use  can  the  study 
of  that  old  mediaeval  poet  be  to  us  of  the 
twentieth  century  ?"  Our  answer  is  this :  Has 
the  man  who  taught  the  whole  Christian  world 
the  true  and  awful  meaning  of  sin,  of  sorrow 
and  of  redemption  nothing  to  teach  us?  Let 
the  candid  mind  first  examine  the  poem  which 
has  withstood  the  sneers  and  misrepresenta- 
tions and  criticisms  of  six  hundred  years,  be- 


Great  Literature.  163 

fore  condemnation  is  passed  upon  it.  A  whole 
literature  has  grown  up  around  the  Divine 
Comedy  as  the  centuries  have  passed.  Pictures 
have  been  painted,  statues  carved  and  music 
composed  under  the  inspiration  created  by  the 
tremendous  insight  of  this  great  master.  For 
it  absorbed  unto  itself  the  piety  of  the  Hebrew, 
the  beauty  of  the  Greek,  and  the  weird  mystic- 
ism of  the  barbarian. 

Is  it  not  the  aim  of  every  earnest  soul  to 
attain  by  the  broadest  and  highest  possible  cul- 
ture unto  that  serene  wisdom  and  unfaltering 
judgment  which  comes  from  insight  alone? 
How  can  we  better  fill  our  souls  with  the  true 
enthusiasm  which  insight  brings  than  by  the 
study  of  the  great  prophets  and  seers  of  the 
race  who  have  thought  "God's  thought  after 
Him;"  and  who  in  consequence  of  this  power 
can  lead  us  away  from  the  temporary  and  unim- 
portant things  to  the  eternal  and  all  important 
things  in  this  life  as  well  as  in  any  future  stage 
of  existence  that  may  be  granted  to  us.  If  we 
believe  in  immortality  we  must  believe  that  the 
inner  life  continues  to  exist  though  the  outer 
life  is  destroyed.  After  all,  Death  is  the  great 
inexorable  fact  in  life.  Sooner  or  later  each 
one  of  us  must  pass  through  the  ordeal,  and 


164  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

each  human  soul  asks  "what  is  beyond?"  No 
traveller  has  ever  returned  from  this  life  be- 
yond the  tomb.  Our  knowledge  of  it  is  neces- 
sarily based  on  our  knowledge  of  the  workings 
of  the  inner  spiritual  life  of  man  in  this  world 
and  what  that  life  must  be  if  it  continues.  Hence 
any  strong,  vivid  account  of  the  life  beyond 
must  have  deep  insight  into  the  nature  of  the 
spirit  of  man  and  the  sources  of  its  suffering 
or  joy — and  therefore  must  contain  many  per- 
tinent lessons  for  this  life.  The  Divine  Com- 
edy is  on  this  subject.  Dante  lived  in  Tuscany, 
the  land  of  tombs,  and  in  an  era  whose  religious 
teachings  led  men  to  think  of  the  eternal  be- 
yond. He  was  inevitably  influenced  more  or 
less  by  his  environment  and  the  age  in  which 
he  lived;  nevertheless  his  insight  was  so  vital 
that  it  included  the  here  and  the  now  as  well 
as  the  then  and  the  beyond. 

All  true  art  has  the  element  of  the  eternal, 
the  universal  in  it.  This  is  why  Dante's  types 
and  images  have  stood  for  ages.  They  are 
not  merely  the  reflection  of  his  time,  but  of  all 
time.  They  are  the  eternal  pictures  which  have 
stood  the  test  of  time.  Truth,  deep-living  truth 
can  be  told  in  no  other  way  so  effectively  as  in 
an  art  form.  In  our  study  of  this  great  poem 


Great  Literature.  165 

we  find  that  it  is  not  the  soul  of  a  man,  but  of 
man  that  is  being  revealed.  Slowly,  solemnly 
and  with  bowed  head  he  leads  us  down  into  the 
pit  which  the  sins  of  the  human  heart  and  will 
and  intellect  have  dug  for  the  souls  that  har- 
bored them.  Farther  and  farther  we  go  from 
the  light  which  the  All-Father  would  have  shine 
upon  each  of  His  beloved  children.  One  of  the 
most  significant  things  in  the  Divine  Comedy 
is  this;  as  the  souls  of  men  travel  away  from 
the  God-idea  of  man  the  darkness  and  tor- 
ment and  anguish  increase,  and  again  in  the 
Purgatorio  the  nearer  to  the  God-light  the  suf- 
fering, struggling  souls  come  the  calmer  and 
easier  the  journey  becomes.  This  is  the  real 
essence  of  all  true  religion.  And  yet  it  is  given 
not  in  a  theological  dogma,  but  in  a  series  of 
the  most  wonderful  pictures  that  the  world  has 
ever  seen. 

In  the  upper  rim  of  Inferno  are  the  frivolous. 
Those  who  do  not  or  will  not  realize  what  a 
rich  and  precious  gift  life  is.  They  are  in 
an  environment  made  by  themselves  (as  are 
all  of  our  inner  worlds).  It  is  not  the  glad 
light  of  the  sun,  nor  is  it  the  tragic  darkness, 
but  a  dim  gray  twilight,  wherein  nothing  is 
seen  distinctly  and  yet  the  eye  is  not  conscious 


166  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

of  darkness.  They  are  engaged  in  endless  ac- 
tivity, but  what  an  activity!  Each  and  all  are 
continually  chasing  a  flag  as  it  is  blown  back 
and  forth  by  the  wind,  and  they  are  tormented 
by  gad  flies  and  gnats!  Could  anything  ex- 
press more  vividly  the  emptiness  of  an  aimless, 
selfish  life?  Throughout  the  six  hundred  years 
that  have  come  and  gone  since  this  picture  was 
painted,  the  shallow  frivolities  of  those  who 
have  had  leisure  and  have  misused  it,  are  seen 
not  as  luxuries  to  be  coveted,  but  as  the  petty 
and  foolish  chasing  after  a  wind-tossed  flag. 
Their  fighting  with  gad  flies  and  gnats  would 
be  contemptible,  save  for  the  sadness  of  the  fact 
that  such  lives  are  losing  the  joy  and  beauty  of 
real  living.  Surely  Dante  understood  human 
nature  when  he  pictured  idle  society  as  the  first 
step  downward ! 

Next  comes  the  world-famous  scene  of  Fran- 
cesca  da  Rimini.  We  stop  for  a  moment  to 
listen  in  gentle  pity  to  her  tale  of  woes.  In  sad, 
tender  voice  she  tells  of  her  mournful  fall.  Six 
centuries  of  readers  have  felt  their  hearts  soft- 
ening as  they  hear  the  story  of  a  soul  led  astray 
through  love.  And  yet  in  what  a  scene  has 
Dante  placed  her;  bound  to  her  illicit  lover, 
she  whirls  with  him  unceasingly,  forever,  in  the 


Great  Literature.  167 

mad  storm  that  they  themselves  have  created, 
no  rest,  no  peace  of  mind,  no  contentment ;  they 
must  forever  live  in  the  whirlwind  of  passion 
with  remorse  forever  torturing  them!  Then 
comes  a  nasty  mixture  of  rain,  mud  and  foul 
odors,  a  veritable  pig-sty;  and  here  stupid, 
stolid,  half  bestial  are  the  gluttons.  No  serv- 
ice of  Dresden  china  nor  glitter  of  cut-glass 
can  hide  from  the  master's  piercing  eye  the 
swinishness  of  such  a  life.  He  paints  it  in  all 
its  loathsomeness  and  we  turn  away  in  disgust. 
The  three-throated  dog  Cerberus  is  the  fit  com- 
panion for  such  creatures!  With  what  fine 
scorn  must  the  lip  of  Dante  have  curled  as  he 
sat  an  unwilling  guest  at  the  table  of  some  rich 
glutton. 

And  the  miser  and  the  spendthrift,  how 
sharply  he  defines  them  and  shows  the  useless 
labor  of  the  one  as  he  toilingly  climbs  a  hill 
rolling  an  ever-increasing  ball  of  gold  before 
him,  losing  all  interest  in  family  or  friends,  all 
pleasure  in  intellectual  pursuits  in  order  that 
he  may  make  the  ball  bigger  and  get  to  the  top. 
And  when  he  reaches  the  summit  what  is  his 
reward  ?  Only  the  anguish  of  seeing  the  spend- 
thrift kick  the  ball  and  send  it  rolling  down  hill 
again.  How  many  a  millionaire's  life  is  here 


168  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

told !  Only  in  this  dramatic  scene  the  senseless 
folly  of  such  a  life  is  emphasized  by  the  thought 
that,  never  having  learned  any  other  activity 
in  life  except  the  one  of  money-making, 
throughout  all  eternity  such  a  soul  has  doomed 
itself  to  toil  uselessly  piling  up  money.  No 
costly  automobile,  nor  Parisian  costume,  nor 
glitter  of  jewels  can  cover  the  miserable  petty 
selfishness  of  the  spendthrift.  He  stands  a 
contemptible  coward,  a  parasite,  spending  what 
he  has  not  earned. 

Then  come  the  angry  with  wreaths  of  smoke 
blinding  their  eyes,  making  them  see  all  things 
in  inflamed  colors,  and  the  sullen  sunk  deep  in 
a  muddy  river  the  only  evidence  of  their  pres- 
ence being  an  occasional  bubble  or  pout  that 
comes  to  the  surface.  Have  we  not  all  met 
them  and  been  madf  uncomfortable  by  them? 
How  utterly  absurd  they  are  made  to  appear 
here!  Then  comes  the  sudden  transition  from 
the  sins  of  the  body  to  the  sins  of  the  intellect, 
and  instantly  the  s-cene  changes,  we  are  no 
longer  in  an  open  country,  but  a  walled  city 
appears.  And  the  appalling  darkness  is  lighted 
by  glaring  flames.  Fire,  the  destroyer  is  at 
work,  yet  still  the  souls  live  on,  must  live.  Is 
it  not  of  their  own  choice  that  they  have  come 
to  such  a  condition? 


Great  Literature.  169 

Here  each  soul  stands  naked.  The  clothing  of 
earth  has  been  torn  from  its  limbs.  The  mur- 
derers steeped  in  rivers  of  blood;  the  suicides 
are  deprived  of  human  shape,  having  destroyed 
their  bodies,  compelled  to  live  in  bodies  of  trees, 
the  blasphemers;  the  seducers;  the  flatterers; 
the  abusers  of  sacred  trusts;  the  barterers  of 
public  office;  the  hypocrites;  the  thieves;  the 
evil  counselors;  the  breeders  of  discord;  the 
counterfeiters;  the  liars;  the  traitors,  all  are 
there,  each  in  a  world  which  his  own  soul  has 
created,  each  pursued  by  a  monster  that  sug- 
gests in  bestial  form  the  spiritual  disfigurement 
he  has  caused  in  his  own  soul.  And  all  so  re- 
vealed with  such  weird  vividness  that  they  be- 
come living  realities  never  to  be  forgotten.  The 
light  of  enternity  is  turned  upon  the  deeds  of 
time,  all  external  covering  of  excuses,  all  calling 
of  things  by  polite  names  is  done  away  with. 
The  scales  fall  from  our  eyes,  we  stand  and  look 
upon  the  human  soul  as  God  looks  upon  it,  with- 
out God's  love  and  we  cry  out,  "Lord  have 
mercy  upon  us  miserable  sinners!"  Yet  clear 
and  distinct  throughout  the  entire  journey 
down  the  infernal  pit  we  are  made  to  realize  the 
fact  that  each  distorted  soul  is  there  in  a  dis- 
torted world  because  being  made  in  the  image 


170  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

of  God  it  has  chosen  to  become  a  devil.  All  of 
this  terrible  revelation  of  sin  and  suffering  with 
all  of  its  accompanying  horrors  is  to  teach  us 
that  it  is  man's  free  will  which  makes  a  hell,  not 
God's  wrath.  It  is  a  wonderful  truth  which  the 
Church  has  not  yet  fully  grasped.  The  insight 
of  Dante  swerves  not  in  this  terrible  form  as 
it  shows  as  a  thousand  sermons  could  not  show 
better  that  wrong-doing  must  always  bring 
suffering,  and  that  sin,  no  matter  how  gilded  or 
how  enticing,  in  the  end  robs  the  soul  of  all  that 
could  really  satisfy  it. 

This  leads  us  to  the  study  of  the  Purgatorio, 
not  the  Roman  Catholic  dogma  of  repentance 
and  atonement  after  death,  but  that  state  of 
mind  in  which  men  of  all  degrees  of  sin  are 
learning  through  weary  and  painful  toil  to  bear 
bravely  and  patiently,  aye,  even  joyfully,  the 
consequences  of  their  own  evil  deeds;  until 
through  effort  and  through  suffering  they  are 
prepared  to  see  the  angel  of  God's  mercy  stand- 
ing ready  to  lift  them  up  to  a  higher  plane,  or 
to  listen  to  His  voice  calling  them  along  new 
paths  where  more  climbing  must  be  done.  No 
wonder  we  hear  paeans  of  praise  as  each  new 
beatitude  is  chanted  with  a  meaning  never  felt 
before.  Marvelous  indeed  are  the  pictures  of 


Great  Literature.  171 

the  proud  and  haughty  souls  voluntarily  bowing 
themselves  almost  to  the  earth  as  they  labor- 
iously toil  up  the  Purgatorial  mountains.  Again 
the  envious,  having  refused  to  recognize 
merit  in  others,  are  here  willing  to  have  their 
eyelids  sewed  together  and  in  humble  peni- 
tence blindingly  feel  their  way  along  the  rocky 
path.  Then  come  the  slothful,  and  again  those 
who  have  indulged  in  the  sins  of  the  flesh.  Each 
and  all  are  pictured  here  in  an  environing  world 
that  helps  on  the  spiritual  life  they  are  strug- 
ling  to  regain.  In  such  marvelous  and  un- 
paralleled ways  Dante  is  telling  us  that  the 
human  soul  has  in  it  so  much  of  the  Divine 
that  it  must  help  the  great  Divine  in  its  own 
salvation.  Is  not  the  law  of  all  growth  of  char- 
acter here  written  out  for  all  time — each  man 
must  to  the  utmost  extent  of  his  will  power 
undo  the  wrong  he  has  done.  He  must  with  the 
most  tremendous  effort  of  which  he  is  capable 
strive  to  do  the  right  deed.  The  Divine  Grace 
stands  ready  to  help  him.  With  this  deep  in- 
sight in  mind  what  think  you,  earnest  mother, 
of  the  usual  "I'm  sorry!"  as  sufficient  atone- 
ment for  the  misconduct  of  the  child  whom 
you  would  see  grow  in  spiritual  stature  and 
gain  control  over  his  besetting  sin?  And  yet 


172  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

this  great  sermon  of  sermons  is  a  series  of  beau- 
tiful pictures  so  attractive  that  I  have  known 
little  children  to  beg  to  have  told  to  them  again 
and  again  the  story  of  the  wonderful  gate,  or  of 
the  Valley  of  the  Princes,  or  of  some  other  ex- 
quisite scene. 

When  we  turn  to  Dante's  portrayal  of  the 
ethical  world,  we  are  led  to  realize  that  all  eth- 
ics are,  when  rightly  understood,  based  on  the 
God-idea  of  man's  relationship  to  his  fellow 
man.  The  whole  wonderful  sweep  down  into 
the  abyss  of  sin  and  the  rise  up  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Mount  of  Purification  is  based  on 
the  thought  of  the  brotherhood  of  man  the 
Fatherhood  of  God.  Each  wrong  doing  be- 
comes heinous  to  the  extent  that  it  injures  the 
spiritual  confidence  of  man  in  man.  Personal 
sins,  no  matter  how  disgusting  and  loathsome, 
are  not  placed  by  our  poet  in  as  low  a  circle 
as  sins  that  disturb  the  ethical  life  of  society. 
Without  this  thought  of  the  institutional  life 
of  man  by  which  to  measure  the  extent  of  a  sin, 
how  could  we  reconcile  the  putting  of  a  barterer 
of  public  office  for  private  gain  below  the  sen- 
sualist? In  the  toilsome  journey  of  the  Pur- 
gatorial mountain  we  find  that  it  is  those  sins 
which  separate  man  from  his  fellow  man  that 


Great  Literature.  173 

are  the  first  which  must  be  purged  away.  Slow- 
ly and  with  painful  effort  does  the  repentant 
soul  learn  to  acknowledge  this  brotherhood  of 
man,  upon  which  is  based  all  civic  and  religious 
growth,  for  it  is  the  God-thought  for  man.  It 
would  be  impossible  in  the  short  space  allotted 
here  to  speak  of  the  marvelous  beauty  with 
which  this  great  thought  is  presented.  Centur- 
ies must  yet  pass  by  before  the  world  can  real- 
ize it  in  the  practical  affairs  of  life.  And  yet 
just  to  the  extent  that  we  do  realize  it  are  we 
true  citizens,  great  reformers,  wise  philan- 
thropists, efficient  teachers,  inspiring  preachers 
or  real  artists. 

Of  the  lessons  to  be  learned  from  the  Para- 
diso  I  dare  not  speak.  The  glory  of  its  en- 
vironment, the  exultant  rejoicings  of  the  re- 
deemed spirits,  the  tender  and  mystical  rela- 
tionship of  the  soul  to  its  Maker  which  the 
Paradiso  portrays,  is  felt  by  me  in  a  dim  way, 
but  not  comprehended.  It  always  leaves  me 
with  the  impression  that  God  is  great  and  good, 
and  the  nearer  man  gets  to  Him  the  happier  he 
is.  I  leave  this  part  of  the  poem  to  be  inter- 
preted and  applied  to  life  by  a  deeper  soul  than 
mine. 


174  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

Do  not  most  of  us  need  insight  and  inspira- 
tion even  more  than  we  need  knowledge  and 
training?  Does  not  insight  give  patience  and 
sympathy  with  weakness  in  every  form?  And 
does  not  inspiration  breathe  new  life  and  new 
courage  into  the  tired  heart  and  bring  with  it 
that  zeal  which  makes  the  delving  for  more 
knowledge  of  the  things  of  the  outside  world, 
or  the  conquest  of  self  a  joy,  rather  than  a  task  ? 
Again  and  again  comes  the  question:  "Where 
can  we  get  more  insight?  How  can  we  fill 
ourselves  with  deeper  inspiration?"  Perhaps 
more  people  turn  to  Shakespeare,  the  mighty 
creator  of  modern  art,  than  to  any  one  other 
world-poet  for  rest,  for  recreation  and  for  add- 
ed knowledge  of  human  nature.  There  is  no 
need  of  our  stopping  here  to  comment  on  the 
marvelous  beauty  of  diction  of  Shakespeare. 
He  is  "a  well  of  English  undefiled."  His  won- 
derful adaptation  of  the  style  of  language  to 
the  character  of  the  person  speaking,  is  in  it- 
self a  most  helpful  study  of  literary  style.  Again 
his  art  is  perfect  in  placing  each  person  in  the 
landscape  best  suited  to  enhance  the  effect  of 
the  character.  As,  for  example,  the  melancholy 
of  Hamlet  reaches  its  climax  in  a  grave  yard. 
The  life  of  Macbeth  is  on  a  battle  field.  The 


Great  Literature.  175 

climax  of  King  Lear's  rage  is  in  the  midst  of 
a  storm,  and  so  on.  Each  inner  mood  has  its 
corresponding  outer  setting.  Such  master 
strokes  and  a  thousand  other  beauties  are  self- 
evident.  But  it  is  of  Shakespeare  as  an  in- 
spirer  of  nobler  living  that  we  would  speak. 
First  of  all  he  has  set  before  us  every  kind  of 
life.  The  palace  of  the  king,  the  courts  of 
justice,  the  marts  of  trade,  the  privacy  of  fam- 
ily life,  the  silence  of  solitude,  each  plays  its 
part  in  the  moulding  of  character,  and  the  in- 
fluence which  each  of  these  exerts  is  a  fasci- 
nating study  to  the  student  who  believes  that 
environment  is  a  strong  factor  in  education. 

Perhaps  the  most  significant  point  gained  by 
the  study  of  Shakespeare's  use  of  environment 
is  that  of  the  sudden  change  to  primitive  life 
when  he  wishes  to  remold,  reform  or  recreate 
his  characters.  Off  to  the  unknown  island  is 
sent  his  Prospero,  that  he  may  meditate  upon 
his  weak  relinquishment  of  responsibility,  and 
may  learn  to  use  his  knowledge  and  his  magic 
art  for  men  and  not  for  his  own  pleasure  alone. 
Off  to  a  solitary  cave  among  the  mountains 
flees  Belarius,  taking  with  him  the  two  young 
sons  of  Cymbeline,  that  he  may  guide  them  into 
a  strong,  true  manhood,  unhindered  by  the  cor- 


176  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

ruptions  of  court  life  and  the  artificialities  of 
society.  It  is  in  the  forest  of  Arden  that  the 
wronged  Duke  finds  "tongues  in  trees,  books 
in  the  running  brooks,  sermons  in  stones  and 
good  in  everything"  (surely  he  has  found 
compensation  enough  for  the  hollow  life  he 
has  left  behind  him!)  ;  and  Rosalind  shines  not 
so  attractively  in  the  fashionable  and  conven- 
tional court  circle  as  when  in  simple  peasant 
garb  she  freely  lives  her  real  self.  Could  the 
charming  character  of  Perdita  have  developed 
as  serenely  in  the  palace  of  Leontes  as  it  did 
in  the  humble,  honest  home  life  of  the  shep- 
herd's cot?  It  is  true  that  Imogen  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  luxurious  of  surroundings,  presents 
the  true  womanly  character,  but  against  what 
odds  does  she  contend ! 

What  a  significant  lesson  this  great  magician 
teaches  us  by  that  constant  return  to  nature  for 
the  quieting  of  the  restless,  tired  life,  for  the 
subduing  of  the  rebellious,  selfish  will,  for  teach- 
ing the  difference  between  the  essentials  of  life 
and  those  non-essentials  which  the  extrava- 
gance of  our  city  leads  us  to  over  value!  Off 
to  the  woods  then,  with  your  children  when  you 
begin  to  detect  the  craving  for  artificial  excite- 
ment, the  scorning  of  simple  duties,  the  de- 


Great  Literature.  177 

mand  for  luxuries  as  if  they  were  necessities. 
Back  to  the  companionship  of  nature  when  your 
heart  begins  to  question  as  to  whether  or  not 
life  is  worth  living!  Plain  living  and  high 
thinking  seem  to  have  been  Shakespeare's  ideal 
life  as  well  as  his  remedy  for  jaded  nerves  and 
sick  hearts. 

It  is  hard  to  separate  the  evolution  of  char- 
acter from  the  influence  of  environment  in 
Shakespeare.  The  two  are  in  reality  but  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  same  study.  Still  Shake- 
speare portrays  for  us  the  tremendous  evolu- 
tion of  character  without  any  change  of  sur- 
roundings. Who  can  study  the  play  of  Mac- 
beth and  not  realize  the  transformation  which 
is  going  on  as  the  brave  and  loyal  soldier  is 
slowly  changed,  by  gnawing  ambition,  into  the 
cowardly  and  superstitious  traitor?  Is  there 
no  warning  in  this  for  us?  Do  we  not  too 
often  awaken  and  feed  wrong  ambitions  by 
undue  praise,  unchecked  by  the  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility which  should  always  accompany 
the  realization  of  added  power?  Do  we  al- 
ways remember  that  added  strength  is  added 
responsibility?' 

Again,  who  can  follow  without  keen  inter- 
est, the  proud  and  irascible  old  King  Lear,  who 


178  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

brooks  not  the  slightest  opposition  to  his 
whims.  Disciplined  by  his  own  folly,  he  passes 
through  every  woe  that  age  can  feel,  until 
we  hear  him  plead  pitifully  and  humbly.  "You 
must  bear  with  me.  Pray  you,  now,  forgive 
and  forget.  I  am  old  and  foolish."  Or  when 
he  gently  says  to  the  weeping  Cordelia  after  all 
hope  of  his  restoration  to  the  throne  is  lost, 
"Come,  let's  away  to  prison ;  we  two  alone  will 
sing  like  birds  in  a  cage.  When  thou  dost  ask 
me  blessing  I'll  kneel  down  and  ask  of  thee 
forgiveness."  How  different  is  this  from  the 
uncompromising  Lear  who  will  listen  to  no 
suggestion  of  change  from  his  arbitrary  com- 
mand! And  yet,  has  not  this  change  been 
wrought  by  the  consequences  of  his  own  deed 
returning  upon  him?  Would  he  have  so  soft- 
ened had  he  been  shielded  from  this  natural 
consequence  of  his  own  deed?  How  many 
of  us  fail  to  realize  this  all-important  lesson, 
namely,  that  we  make  our  own  happiness  or 
unhappiness?  Slowly  we  watch  the  subtle  in- 
fluence of  Cassius  creeping  over  and  changing 
the  views  of  the  noble  Brutus.  He  stops  not 
to  reason  out  for  himself  whether  or  not  Cae- 
sar is  helping  the  Roman  world.  He  accepts 
the  views  of  Cassius  and  becomes  his  tool.  Do 


Great  Literature.  179 

we  not  see  the  same  thing  done  in  the  political 
campaigns  of  today?  Some  of  the  arguments 
of  Cassius  might  be  mistaken  for  newspaper 
campaign  editorials  of  the  present  hour.  What 
a  study  of  the  conflicting  influence  of  character 
on  character  is  the  play  of  Hamlet!  How  the 
tender  and  beautiful  personality  of  Hamlet 
comes  to  naught  through  his  lack  of  power  to 
decide  upon  a  course  of  conduct  and  then  to  pur- 
sue it.  Does  not  this  touching  story  say  in  most 
pathetic  tones,  to  each  of  us :  "Let  insight  and 
resolution  be  followed  quickly  by  effort  to  at- 
tain, even  if  mistakes  are  sometimes  made?" 
Long  continued  hesitating  weakens  any  char- 
acter. Sensitive  refinement,  quick  sympathy, 
tender  affection  are  not  enough, — character 
needs  robust,  vigorous  action  to  strengthen  it 
and  make  it  a  power  in  the  world.  Let  us  real- 
ize that  many  little  achievements  in  childhood 
lead  to  more  determination  to  attain  the  de- 
sired end  in  youth,  and  that  this  determination 
culminates  in  the  grand  confidence  in  one's  own 
power  which  removes  mountains,  banishes  the 
word  "impossible,"  and  pushes  a  generation 
forward. 

Where  in  all  history  do  we  see  so  well  dis- 
played the  effect  upon  character,   of  coming 


180  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

into  responsibilities,  as  in  the  transformation 
of  the  gay,  reckless  Prince  Hal  into  the  quiet, 
thoughtful  King  Henry  the  Fifth?  Many  a 
perplexed  teacher  might  take  the  hint  and 
change  the  bright,  restless,  mischief -making  boy 
into  the  thoughtful  maintainer  of  law  and  or- 
der, by  placing  the  star  of  leadership  upon  his 
breast.  Many  an  anxious  father  who  mourns 
over  the  rash  and  imprudent  conduct  of  his  son, 
seeing  in  it  evidence  of  future  dissipation,  could 
learn  from  this  story  of  Prince  Hal  that  all  his 
boy  needs  is  work  and  responsibility  of  some 
kind  which  will  utilize  the  powers  now  run- 
ing  to  waste.  Illustrations  of  the  development 
of  character,  seemingly  without  number,  pre- 
sent themselves  until  a  whole  volume  might  be 
written  upon  Shakespeare's  insight  into  this 
one  theme  alone. 

When  we  turn  to  the  study  of  man's  rela- 
tionship to  man,  we  find  that  Shakespeare  has 
portrayed  it  in  a  thousand  forms.  In  fact  the 
most  interesting  part  of  his  inexhaustible  ge- 
nius seems  to  be  his  clear  insight  into  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  ethical  world,  which  shows  each 
individual  that  he  is  to  consider  himself  as  a 
necessary  portion  of  a  mighty  whole,  and  yet 
helpless  without  that  whole.  Here  we  learn 


Great  Literature.  181 

in  most  emphatic  terms  that  "each  must  do  his 
part,  however  small,"  else  the  family,  the  trade 
world,  the  state,  the  church  will  suffer.  The 
entire  plot  of  his  dramas  may  be  summed  up 
in  a  few  words.  Man  as  an  individual  is  in 
conflict  with  the  institutional  world.  If  he 
refuses  to  be  reconciled  to  the  demands  of  the 
greater  world,  the  waters  of  destruction  close 
over  his  head  and  the  play  becomes  a  tragic 
lesson  for  mankind.*  It  is  from  this  standpoint 
that  we  must  judge  of  Shakespeare's  faith  in  a 
Divine  Providence  overruling  the  puny  efforts 
of  man. 

Lear's  kingdom  may  seem  for  the  time  be- 
ing to  be  torn  to  pieces,  but  in  the  end  Albany 
restores  just  government  to  England. 

Macbeth  may  murder  his  king  and  slay  his 
fellow  general  and  put  to  flight  every  loyal  man 
in  Scotland,  but  the  play  closes  with  peace  and 
order  restored  to  the  bleeding  land. 

Hamlet,  As  You  Like  It,  Tempest,  and  many 
other  plays,  all  bring  to  us  the  deep  and  last- 
ing impression  that  the  mind  of  man  has  reared 
with  infinite  pains  this  majestic  structure,  which 
we  call  the  institutional  world,  where  the  weak 


*  Dr.  Denton  Snyder   in   his   commentary  on  Shakespeare's 
Tragedies  unfolds  further  this  most  interesting  subject. 


182  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

may  find  refuge,  the  wise  man  peace,  and  even 
the  wicked,  if  he  chooses,  may  learn  through 
law  the  nature  of  his  deed  and  turn  from  it.  Is 
not  this  a  much-needed  lesson,  for  those  rest- 
less reformers  who  see  in  individualism  the 
cure  for  all  the  present  evils  of  the  world,  who 
would  tear  down  the  strong  protecting  walls  of 
law  and  authority  because  they  sometimes  seem 
to  protect  the  wrong? 

The  ethical  institutions  of  the  world  are  not 
only  "the  product  of  man's  deepest  spiritual  na- 
ture," but  they  also  prove  to  him  the  possibility 
of  spiritual  advancement  which  becomes  an 
angel  of  hope  in  our  hours  of  darkness  when 
the  pessimistic  view  of  the  world  presses  itself 
on  us.  From  them  we  learn  that  men  may  be 
mean  and  petty,  but  that  man  is  noble, — that 
individuals  may  be  selfish  and  weak,  grasping 
or  over-ambitious,  but  that  humanity,  as  a 
whole,  is  grand  and  unselfish. 

Is  there  not  inspiration  for  all  of  us  in  this 
thought?  And  does  it  not  add  to  our  respect 
for  the  wonderful  significance  of  this  institu- 
tional world,  maintaining  as  it  does  the  ideals 
of  the  race?  Its  persistence  is  in  reality  one 
of  the  surest  evidence  that  man  has  a  spiritual 
nature. 


Great  Literature.  183 

Perhaps,  as  a  kindergartner,  I  may  be  par- 
doned for  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that 
Shakespeare  and  Froebel  are  the  two  great 
thinkers  who  have  most  effectively  used  the 
drama  to  help  to  bring  the  large  and  varied  ex- 
periences of  mankind  to  the  necessarily  limited 
life  of  the  individual.  Neither  of  them  origi- 
nated plays.  Both  used  the  material  which 
generations  of  human  joy  and  sorrow  had  ac- 
cumulated, making  luminous  the  commonplace 
incidents  by  the  insight  which  showed  it  to  be 
an  universal  experience.  The  real  greatness 
of  the  drama  is  not  yet  realized.  Nor  will  it 
be  seen  until  the  stage  is  purified  of  the  gross, 
low  and  empty  plays  that  are  now  upon  it.  In 
the  meantime  we  can  sit  by  our  evening  lamp 
at  home  and  have  the  world's  greatest  dramat- 
ist bring  before  us,  in  noble  forms  of  art,  the 
struggles  and  temptations,  the  defeats  and  vic- 
tories, the  failures  and  successes  of  mankind; 
until  this  great  silent  teacher  helps  us  to  go 
forth  to  our  daily  contact  with  the  world,  bet- 
ter, wiser  and  more  forbearing  men  and  wo- 
men. 


What  shall  we  say  when  we  come  to  the  great 
Goethe ;  the  master  mind  of  modern  times  ?  Not 


184  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

only  has  he  summed  up  the  experiences  of  the 
race  as  far  as  it  has  developed,  but,  with  the 
eye  of  a  prophet,  he  sees  far  into  the  future  of 
mankind.  The  world  is  not  yet  ready  to  un- 
derstand, much  less  to  pronounce  judgment  up- 
on, the  insight  of  the  man  who  stood  in  Jove- 
like  serenity  amid  the  earthquake  caused  by  the 
French  Revolution.  He  gazed  beyond  that 
small  bon  fire  burning  up  the  rubbish  heap  of 
European  civilization,  and  saw  with  his  pro- 
phetic eye  the  rising  sun  that  was  to  reveal  the 
new  consciousness  of  the  Solidarity  of  the 
Race. 

In  his  Wilhelm  Meister  he  shows  how  the 
individual,  with  aspiration  in  his  heart,  can 
and  will  learn  even  through  his  folly  and  mis- 
takes. But  in  the  great  Faust-poem,  he  gives 
us  a  picture  so  gigantic  that  we  are  lost  in  won- 
der and  perplexity  over  this  or  that  detail  or 
series  of  details,  and  almost  forget  the  sub- 
lime outline  of  the  whole.  In  it  he  uses  all 
forms  of  verse  and  rhythm.  But  that  is  an  ex- 
ternal result,  not  an  internal  thing.  Even  in  the 
Prelude  the  great  dramatist  gives,  with  no  un- 
certain sound,  his  idea  of  the  office  of  great 
literature.  The  manager  asks,  "Will  it  pay?" 
the  actor,  "Will  it  entertain  and  amuse?"  but 
the  artist's  one  question  is  "Will  it  elevate?" 


Great  Literature.  185 

The  limits  of  this  chapter  do  not  permit  more 
than  a  reference  to  the  many  and  marvelous 
beauties  which  are  contained  in  this  gigantic 
poem.  The  cloister-like  study,  the  despair  of 
Faust  checked  by  the  Easter  bells,  the  excur- 
sion to  the  fields,  the  inimitable  creation  and 
evolution  of  Mephisto,  the  touchingly  tender 
and  beautiful  character  of  Margaret,  the  prison 
scene,  the  morning  on  the  mountain  top  where 
Faust  regains  his  courage,  on  through  to  the 
final  struggle  between  the  devils  and  the  angels 
over  his  departing  spirit;  each  is  a  marvelous 
piece  of  literature.  Nor  have  we  space  to 
dwell  upon  the  grotesque  and  absurd,  even 
hideous,  forms  by  means  of  which  the  poet 
makes  us  see  the  nature  of  sin.  It  is  a  liberal 
education  in  literary  style  to  familiarize  one- 
self with  the  outer  form  of  the  poem.  But — 
the  greatest  problems  of  man's  life  are  crowded 
into  this  drama  of  Faust.  The  prologue  intro- 
duces the  old.  old  story  of  Job.  The  setting  is 
the  same.  The  characters  are  unchanged — 
God,  the  devil  and  man, — but  how  different  the 
solution ! 

All  the  experiences  of  the  race  since  the  days 
of  the  Prince  of  Uz  are  poured  into  the  Ti- 
tanic poem  of  Faust.  Here  we  are  shown  the 


186  Some  Silent  Teachers. 

largest,  fullest  answer  that  has  yet  been  given 
to  the  ever  recurring  question,  "Why  are  sin 
and  suffering  allowed  to  come  into  the  life  of 
man?" 

The  hero  goes  through  the  world's  experi- 
ences. He  has  position,  wealth,  learning,  in- 
fluence, all  that  men  call  success, — but  the  spirit 
within  is  not  satisfied.  He  enters  into  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  senses — he  eats,  drinks,  even  de- 
bauches,— but  the  spirit  within  is  not  satisfied. 
Love  comes  to  him,  mad,  passionate  love, — it  is 
returned,  is  gratified, — but  the  spirit  within  is 
not  satisfied.  Statesmanship,  vast  enterprises, 
wide  travel  are  his, — but  the  spirit  within  is  not 
satisfied.  Art,  culture,  refinement,  beauty  in 
all  its  forms  surround  him, — but  the  spirit  with- 
in is  not  satisfied.  Every  experience,  seem- 
ingly, that  can  come  into  the  life  of  man,  sin, 
suffering,  sorrow,  repentance,  pleasure,  joy, 
all  are  his — but  the  spirit  within  is  not  satis- 
fied. And  the  devil  of  doubt  and  discontent 
still  dogs  his  steps.  At  last  he  learns  that  man 
can  not  live  unto  himself  alone!  He  is  but  a 
part  of  the  great  race  and  with  it  must  rise  or 
fall.  With  this  thought  he  creates  a  new  world, 
makes  it  rich  and  beautiful  by  all  that  life  has 
taught  him.  He  invites  unto  this  new  world 


Great  Literature.  187 

all  who  may  need  him.  Then,  and  not  till  then, 
comes  peace — and  the  spirit  within  cries,  "Stay, 
thou  art  so  fair!"  He  at  last  has  learned  the 
true  meaning  of  life! 

It  is  with  such  silent  teachers  as  these  that 
we  may  escape  from  mean  and  petty  views  and 
learn  how  great  a  thing  it  is  to  live ! 


WORKS  BY  DENTON  J.  SNIDER 

PUBLISHKD  BY 

SIGMA  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

10  VAN  BUREN  STREET,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 

I.  Commentary  on  the  Literary  Bibles,  in  9  vols. 

1.  Shakespeare's  Dramas,  3  vols. 

Tragedies  (new  edition) $1 . 50 

Comedies  (new  edition) 1.50 

Histories  (new  edition) 1 . 50 

2.  Goethe's  Faust. 

First  Part  (new  edition) 1 . 50 

Second  Part  (new  edition) 1 . 50 

3.  Homer's  Iliad  (new  edition) 1 . 50 

Odyssey  1.50 

4.  Dante's  Inferno 1 . 50 

"       Purgatory  and  Paradise 1 . 50 

II.  Poems — in  5  vols. 

1.  Homer  in  Chios 1 . 00 

2.  Delphic  Days 1.00 

3.  Agamemnon's  Daughter 1 . 00 

4.  Prorsus  Retrorsus  1.00 

5.  Johnny  Appleseed's  Rhymes 1 . 25 

III.  Psychology. 

1.  Psychology  and  the  Psychosis 1 . 50 

2.  The  Will  and  its  World 1.50 

3.  Social  Institutions 1.50 

4.  Th«  State 1.50 

5.  Ancient  European  Philosophy 1 .50 

6.  Modern  European  Philosophy 1 .60 

(in  preparation.) 

IV.  Kindergarten. 

1.  Commentary  on  Froebel's  Mother  Play-Songs  1.25 

2.  The  Psychology  of  Froebel's  Play-Gifts 1.25 

3.  The  Life  of  Frederick  Froebel 1.25 

V.  Miscellaneous. 

1.  A  Walk  in  Hellas 1.25 

2.  The  Freeburgers  (a  novel) 1-2 

3.  World's  Fair  Studies 1.25 

4.  The  Father  of  History  (Herodotus,  in  preparation). 


A     000  085  540     3 


